Returned
by themarshal
Summary: More than anything, I felt cheated. Denied the life I had promised another, the life I had been fighting for. Denied because my choice had been taken away from me. Post-ME3 AU. FemShep/Liara later on. Rated M for language and sexual situations
1. Awakening

_I hobble forward._

_Control is possible, it had said. But that's madness. The Illusive Man had been wrong. Nobody should wield that much power, not even me._

_Destruction... It's everything I had worked for, but at what cost? Annihilation of all AI? Just when the geth have reached a new dawn of sentience? And EDI..._

_No. Not destruction. Not genocide... But there is another way. The only other way. Strength finds me, coming from nowhere. Maybe it's acceptance. Maybe it's belief that I'm on the right path._

_But I'm not on the right path. That's in the other direction, back into warm blue arms and a soft bed._

_I'm running now. Running in the wrong direction. Running towards the end. It's not my end. I didn't choose it. There should have been another way. Sacrifice is one thing, but this..._

_I'm off the edge. I should be thinking about all the good I'm doing. All the lives I'm saving. The big picture. But I don't care. I can't. I think about the small picture. My picture. The one I've been denied by this war and this false choice._

* * *

><p><strong>-~oO* Part 1 - Awakening *Oo~-<strong>

* * *

><p>I feel warm. That's strange. The beam hadn't been warm. It hadn't been anything. Just bright. And then... nothing.<p>

But now I feel warm. Maybe the sun? And I can hear things. I hear the sound of waves crashing. It's such a comforting sound. Reminds me of the beaches in Los Angeles when I was a kid.

"Mmh..." Huh... I made that noise. Strange. I would have figured that... Well... I don't know. I can feel and hear. Why wouldn't I be able to make a sound?

I open my eyes and immediately have to close them again. That's definitely the sun. Or _a_ sun. Or a star. I can never remember if it's just Earth's star that's named "sun" or if we call all stars "suns". Am I even on Earth? Who cares, now?

I feel a million tiny grains of sand underneath my body. So I'm on a beach. I'm on a beach, in the sun, listening to the waves break. I shift a little bit, feeling the sand rub against my backside. And apparently I'm naked.

Naked on a beach in the sun. So this must be heaven. Certainly my heaven, at least.

I open my eyes a little wider this time. Blue skies greet me, along with the sun's light. I'm gonna call it the sun, since it's my heaven. And if it's my heaven... I resist the urge to roll my head to the side and look. Why bother? She's not gonna be there. She's not gonna be there because I did my job. Because I saved the damn galaxy _and_ her all at once, and I didn't have to choose between them. Because if did, if I'd had to choose between saving her and saving everything else, it would have been just me and her alone in the galaxy. Instead it's just me. Alone. On a beach. In the sun.

Naked.

Waiting.

I close my eyes again and stretch my arms over my head. If I have to wait, and I will, then I can't think of a better place to do it. I'm gonna be here a while. Asari live a long time, she'll probably make it well into her matriarch years before she gets here. That's close to a thousand years that I'll be waiting for her, naked on this beach. That's a lot of life that she's going to live before she gets here. She's going to be so beautiful and powerful when she gets older. It's ridiculous to think about how incredible she is at her age, and how much more life she's going to have and how much more incredible she's going to become.

It's a long time to wait. She might, in that time, find someone else to share her life with. It hurts to think about, but I guess I can understand. It's a thousand years. Without me. But I'm the great Commander Shepard. Who else is gonna be able to compare to me? So when her time comes, I'm sure she'll find me. I can wait. Naked. On this beach.

Lust. I feel lust all of a sudden. I was thinking about Liara, so some lust makes sense. But this is different. Like it's coming from outside of me. Like it's not _my_ lust. The feeling grows. My toes actually begin to curl from it. I lick my lips. It feels good, and the lust swells around me. I accept it. My back arches slightly. This feeling is almost overwhelming. I still can't shake the sense that it's not my own lust I'm feeling, but who the hell cares? I dust my hands free of sand and run my fingers over my stomach. I'm so glad heaven lets me feel these things. One hand trails up to my breast. I pinch the nipple enough to feel a twinge of pain. I'm _really_ glad heaven lets me feel pain. This kind of pain is good. What kind of heaven would this be without this kind of pain? My other hand drifts between my legs. Apparently in heaven it's been a few weeks since I've trimmed. It doesn't matter. I'm alone. I lace my fingers through the coarse hair above my slit. I gently push a fingertip between my lips. I moan again.

Nervous fear rolls over me.

Someone coughs. "Ah... Okay, I'm going to go ahead and stop you before you go any further..."

My heart is pounding. My eyes snap open and I bolt upright in the sand, gasping for breath. I whip around and see a man with short, blonde hair, standing twenty meters away.

"Sorry," he says. "I, uh..."

He has green eyes. No... Oh my god! His eyes are _glowing_ green! I blink hard, sure that my eyes are playing tricks on me. Playing tricks on me... in heaven...

"I didn't mean to watch," the man continues. "Well... I-I _did_," he chuckles, raising an arm to scratch the back of his head. Veins of pulsating green light line his thin forearm. The same on his neck. This can't be real. Why the hell do I think _any_ of this is real? "I mean, I was... I-I didn't realize I was going to get a _show..._" He chuckles again.

I can feel awkward nervousness radiating off of him. And I still can't take my eyes off of his face. Off of those eyes. Does he know his eyes are glowing? That his skin has veins of light? Or is that kind of thing normal for... heaven?

"I mean, I just figured you were, ah..."

I look down at my own arms and see the same geometric veins of green light. Nervousness again, redoubled. Mine mixed with something else.

"I'm _really_ sorry," he continues babbling. "I just thought you were catching some sun, and... not that that makes the staring any _better_. I just..."

I shouldn't feel this much anxiety. I'm not in any danger. Not like the kind I'm used to. I clamp my eyes shut and focus on the pounding in my chest, willing my heart to calm itself.

"You probably just wanted to... uhm... wanted to be alone..."

I hear the sound of my own breathing in my ears. The sound of the waves lapping against the sand. I find calm. I feel calm. Calm_er_ at least. There's still a faint echo of nerves, but it's like a comm signal that's been muted or cut off.

"S-sorry... miss, are you alright?"

I open my eyes again. The green light is gone from my arms. I glance over at the intruder. He's... normal. Pasty white skin. Green eyes that _aren't_ radiating their own light.

"What are you doing here?" I finally ask him.

He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "I was fishing when, ah... Well, it's hard to ignore a beautiful naked woman lying on my beach." _His_ beach. I guess we're getting somewhere. "And, speaking of naked, you don't seem to have _any_ clothes whatsoever. Like, anywhere." He gestures at the empty sand around me. "So how-"

"Where am I?"

He laughs. "Tie one on last night, eh? You're not too far from the city. Though I suppose in your state 'far' might be-"

"What city?"

His face scrunches up. "Uh... Los Angeles? 'City of Angels?' Heh... Founders must've been having a bit of a laugh when they came up with _that_ one."

For a moment I worry that my heart's going to stop. If, in fact, it can stop and I _am_ in Los Angeles and _not_ in heaven and I'm actually... I scan the skies. No Alliance ships. No turian fleet. No geth cruisers.

No Reapers.

No smoldering wreckage, either. Even if the Reapers had hit Los Angeles a tenth as hard as they had London, there should have been some signs of it from this distance. Some smoke or ash or something in the air. But there aren't any Reapers. Why aren't there any Reapers?

I'm about to sound very stupid, but... "What year is it?"

He laughs, louder than before. "Wow. Must have really found your drink, eh?"

My mind races. He says it's Los Angeles and on some level I trust him. It _feels_ like he's being honest, for lack of a better word. The Reapers hit all the major cities, and LA is about as major as they come. But here he is, _fishing. _And trying not to ogle me. If the Reapers were still about, there's no way he'd be out in the open like this. No way that the skies would be as clear as they are. So that must mean I succeeded, right?

So why the hell is there a pasty British man on my beach in heaven?

I bury my face in my hands, hoping that it makes one or both of us disappear or that I wake up or something. For a moment I actually wish I had seen a Reaper flying about. Because then the world would have made some kind of sense. Then I could call up the _Normandy_ and have Joker pick me up, have someone bring me some clothes, and I...

_The Normandy_...

I call up my omni-tool and begin to signal my ship. Nothing happens. No orange hardlight interface appears around my forearm. No twitter of sound from it flickering to life. I _had_ modded my personal omni-tool to give it a "dark" mode for stealth missions, so maybe... My fingers feel around for the location of the command keys. Nothing. No haptic feedback when I touch where they keys should have been. No subtle change in temperature from the IR light of the dark mode. Nothing.

"Ah... Is there someone you can call?"

Oh, right. You're still here. I glance back at the intruder and get to my feet. "I need a comm link to Alliance command."

"Oh!" He stands up straighter, averting his eyes. "You're Alliance?"

I'm suddenly very aware just how out of uniform I am and cover up the more important parts. "Yes, I'm Commander Shepard of the Normandy."

His eyes narrow. "Ah... Commander _Shepard_, was it?"

I begin feeling an odd sense of distrust emanating from the intruder. Not odd in that it's unexpected. I can hear distrust in his voice. Can see it in his body language. But there's something else there, something that's not encompassed by my other senses. "Yes, Commander Alice Shep-"

"The... same Commander Shepard who died twenty-five years ago at the end of the Reaper war?"

My heart stops.

* * *

><p><em>AN: As far as my headcanon is concerned, this story is entirely AU. Neither I nor Alice care much for the idea of Synthesis, but it did pose an interesting concept for a story._

_Several weeks ago I was in the middle of my first playthrough of ME3. I had, up to that point, managed to avoid any and all spoilers. It had meant taking a 5-month hiatus from BSN, but I had done it. Unfortunately I wasn't so diligent about deviantArt, and soon came to realize what the ending(s) would mean for Alice. Distraught, I turned to a writer friend of mine, and asked her how she had persevered when she, who had not avoided spoilers, had known what was coming. She told me that the messianic imagery with Synthesis was rather blatant, and that they had effectively given her 'Good Friday'. All she had to do was write Easter. From that, this story sprang forth, nearly fully-formed. This is my Easter.__ So thank you for that, jtav._

_I'll probably be interspersing chapters of this with more fluffy one-shots (which will be FAR more in-line with my headcanon)._


	2. Unease

_My hand clenches involuntarily as I watch Ash walk away. There's a small cave-in in my chest. I hate that she still asks these questions. And I hate that I'm still not comfortable with my answers._

"_Is everything alright?" Liara's come up behind me._

_I sigh. "Yeah. Just... Ash asking the hard questions."_

"_About you and Cerberus?"_

"_About me and... me. Am I really me? How is it possible? How do I know Cerberus didn't replace me with a fancy Shepard VI? You know..."_

"_Alice..."_

"_I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm me, but... I can't help but wonder the same thing sometimes, you know? How do I know that I'm not just thinking that I'm me? And then one day the Illusive Man's just gonna flick a switch and I'll be..."_

_Arms snake around my waist. I can barely feel it past my armor, but I know they're there._

"_You should have told me." She whispers into my ear. "I knew it was really you the moment I first touched you again."_

_I melt into her arms. "Well I'll just have to keep you around then, won't I?"_

* * *

><p>When I had woken up after the Collector attack I'd immediately had a swarm of hacked mechs to deal with, learning shortly thereafter that it was Cerberus who had resurrected me, and after that I'd had to dive headlong against the Collectors. I hadn't had much time to ponder the implications of my own death. This time, apparently after being dead for 25 years, all I have is the bureaucracy of Alliance command to keep my mind occupied.<p>

It doesn't help much.

I scramble to speak before he puts me on hold again. "Yes, I know how ridiculous it sounds but-" I sigh as the line goes quiet. I bury my face in my hands.

"No luck?"

My intruder has been kind enough to take me into his home, give me a change of clothes, and let me use his comm link to try and explain to the Alliance that I'm not crazy when I tell them who I am. And he's been kind enough to not laugh in my face or call the police while I tried. "No." I shake my head. "Can't say I blame them, though. I'm not even sure _I_ believe me..."

"Well..." he trails off. "Let me know if you need anything."

I nod. "I will. Thanks, Nn..." I hesitate.

"Nigel."

I smile. "Nigel. Thank you."

He leaves me alone with my thoughts. I try to focus on what I've missed out on. Between Nigel, his wife, and the few abrupt conversations I've had with various clerks at Alliance command, I've managed to learn a fair bit about the last... Jesus... 25 years. Like how the Reapers had disappeared after a green shockwave from the Crucible washed over everything. How the Charon relay, and probably every other relay in the galaxy, had been destroyed in the process. How the _Normandy_ and several other ships had attempted microjumps at the same moment the Crucible went active, and each of them had been lost. How my body hadn't been found within the remnants of the Citadel and I'd been declared dead.

It all seems so insane. Like everything that's happened after Harbinger nearly vaporized me has been some kind of bad dream that I should have woken up from by now. I mean, the synthetic creator of the Reapers telling me that by giving myself into that beam I would somehow diffuse myself into every living thing in the galaxy, organic and synthetic, and end the endless cycle of chaos and control? Surely that's the kind of thing you come up with in some kind of fever dream. Right? I'm either dead – and for some reason imagining that heaven is a quaint little beach house outside of Los Angeles. Or... Or I don't know. A dream sounds like a good idea. I'd like to think that I'm just dreaming right now.

Except when I look in the mirror, I know I'm not dreaming. I see most of the stuff I normally see whenever I've seen myself in a dream. The blue eyes... The freckles from spending too much time in the sun when I was a teenager... The pale skin from not getting enough sun recently... The lips that I wouldn't mind being a little bit smaller...

And brown hair.

It's such a stupid thing, but I've had red hair – _crimson_ hair, thank you – since I was a teenager. Since I had gotten into my head that I could be Nikki's 'roja' and dumped the credits on gene therapy to turn the hair on my head the color of blood. Just to please her. Just to make her love me. Whenever I had seen myself in a dream after that, even when I had entered the geth collective, I'd had red hair. When Miranda had brought me back after the Collector attack, she had given me my red hair. _She_ had gotten that right.

And now I'm a brunette.

It seems like there's never some earth-shattering revelation that makes you realize that something's wrong. It's always something small, like your best friend doesn't know who you are, or your favorite food doesn't taste quite right. Or your hair is the wrong damn color.

So what am I? Dead? Alive? Why the hell am I here? And who the hell decided to take away my red hair? Am I still me? I still look like me, brown hair being the exception. I still think and feel like me. I still sound like me.

So what happened?

Sorrow and suspicion press upon me. Just like it was on the beach, these feelings seem to come from somewhere else. Like it's not me. They're not mine. I open my eyes and see my own face lit up in the mirror with green veins of glowing light. My eyes are practically smoking with the stuff. I'm calm, though. Calmer than before. Maybe it's because I've seen it already. Maybe it's because part of me still thinks this is a dream. Maybe it's because this isn't the weirdest thing I've had to consider all day. But I'm not nearly as freaked out as I had been.

I sit there, my blue eyes glowing green in the mirror, pondering whether calling Alliance one more time would make a difference. It won't, I know that. I don't even believe me, so what the hell good is another call gonna do? No anonymous voice over the extranet is going to help. But I have an idea of something that might. I swallow hard, fighting against the strange mix of emotions I'm feeling, and head back downstairs. I hear Nigel and his wife – Maris, I think – speaking in hushed tones. I take the last few steps quietly. I've snuck up on geth. I've crept past husks. I can be _very _silent when I need to be.

"-if she is?" I hear Nigel whispering.

"You don't honestly believe-"

"I'm just saying-"

"-that _Commander Shepard_-"

"I know-"

"-magically teleported here from the past-"

"Well of course it sounds ridic-"

"-looking _exactly_ like she did twenty-five-"

"But that's my _point_!" He raises his voice ever so slightly. I can feel his agitation like it's crawling under my skin. "Every single vid I've seen of Shepard shows _that woman upstairs!"_

"With _red_ hair."

"_It's! Fucking! Hair!_ Is that honestly-"

"I just don't know..."

He sighs. "I know... I don't either. But _she_ seems to."

I run a hand through my hair – my _brown_ hair. I wish I _did _know_..._ I take a few quiet steps backward up the stairs. A deep breath steadies my nerves, and I make my way back down the stairs, announcing my presence with heavier footsteps. Turning the corner I have to stifle a gasp when I see those green veins of light on their skin. Maybe I'm not _quite_ used to the sight yet. They're both seated at their dining room table, looking at me, pretending that they weren't just wondering whether I was crazy or not. If only they knew how much I'd been wondering the same thing...

"Nothing?" Nigel is the first to ask.

I shake my head. "It's the same thing over and over. I could have stopped after the first call."

"Well, you had to try," Nigel offered.

Maris doesn't move, doesn't blink, doesn't so much as breathe, but I can practically taste her discomfort in the back of my throat. Like I'm going to get sick with _her_ worry. And those lines of green on her skin... I don't know. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that they were telling me the same thing.

And that's weird. Those veins are too strange for the two of them to not have said anything about them. To not have even acknowledged them. I've got to ask.

"I've gotta ask..." I trail off as they look at me with those glowing eyes. It _is_ too strange that they haven't said anything, right? Like if they could see the lines and the eyes and all that, wouldn't there have been some kind of sign? I realize just _how_ crazy I'm about to sound, the woman who claims to be some long-dead Spectre, who occasionally sees green veins of light on everyone's skin. Holy shit. Maybe I _am_ crazy...

"Yes?" Nigel asks.

I blink and the lights are gone. Everyone and everything is back to normal. Well, not normal. It's still 25 years after I've probably died and come back to life, and every so often people's eyes glow green and I seem to be the only one who notices. But normal enough, I guess. Or crazy enough. I blow out a long sigh. I think I've made them put up with enough of my crazy for one lifetime. No need to go adding to the pile.

Not when there are other things to attend to. "I need one more favor..."

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN**: Apologies for the very short chapter. The next one will be a bit meatier!_


	3. Convergence of Past and Future

_He slams me against the wall, pinning me there with a forearm pressed against my chest. I am _not_ in the mood for another fucking fight._

"_What the fuck, man? You said I was gonna be a leader!" I spit the words at him as best I can. The gash on my lips means I can only talk out the side of my mouth._

"_And you will be."_

"_Then why the fuck I gotta wait in line with the rest of these dregs?"_

"_These 'dregs' are the newest recruits for-"_

"_What a joke... Most of these 'recruits' barely look like they can read or write!"_

"_Then they've got something to learn by being here, just like you." He releases me._

"_The hell do _I_ have to learn? I know how to read." I'm so fucking tired. And hungry... My face is throbbing and my hands are shaking but I'll be damned if I'm gonna let him see me weak._

"_You, little thief, are going to learn what it means to work for something greater than yourself."_

_So he does remember me._

"_That's why you're here, right?" He puts his hands behind his back. 'At ease' I think they call it. Like either one of us is fucking 'at ease.' "Or did you change your mind? You planning on crawling back to that so-called 'life' of you've got?" He reaches out and flicks a strand of my hair. "See what the Reds ha-"_

_I slap his hand out of the way. "Look at my face. Do I look like I'm still a Red? Like I've got anywhere else to go?" Fuck, my mouth is killing me._

"_Not good enough." He shakes his head._

_I'm working on hate right now. "What the fu-"_

"_You have to choose this life, little thief."_

_I hate him. I wish I could hate him to death. "I just said I didn't have any other fucking options!" Ow. Avoid 'F' words 'til your lips are healed, dummy._

"_Lesson number one in being a leader," he jams his finger in my face. "You may not like your options, you may not see any other way out, but there is always choice. And you have to _choose_ this life, young lady. You have to commit. If you're walking a road just because you've got nowhere else to be, it will eat you alive. If I had to guess? You became a Red because you didn't have any other options. And that's why your face is looking like it does right now."_

_It's like someone's thrown a bucket of cold water on me. I can barely stand up._

_He nods. "So? What'll it be? Red? Or Blue?"_

_I stand there for a minute, 'cause I can't really do much else. I don't know how, but I command my legs to straighten. If I close my eyes I might fall asleep, but I click my heels together and give him a salute. "I'm in."_

"_'I'm in...'"_

_Fuck. "I'm in... _sir_."_

"_What's your name, recruit?"_

"_Ali-cat... uh... Alice, sir. Alice Shepard."_

"_Shepard, then." He steps back and salutes me. "Welcome to the Alliance."_

* * *

><p>Looking out the skycar window, I can see the past several decades that the city has seen fly past. I see familiar landmarks, the scars of destruction from the Reapers, and the new growth of the rebuilding efforts. For some reason, it's oddly familiar. And oddly comforting. LA hasn't been my home in a decade – a decade of <em>my<em> life, anyway. I'd been back all of one time since enlisting, and even then it hadn't _felt_ like home. I had found a few minor bits of sentiment here and there. A few familiar faces. A few familiar places. Not enough to make sure I'd keep Earth a regular destination for shore leave. No, LA isn't home for me. It's just where I was born.

It's funny, then, that I should wind up here after I was reborn. I guess reborn is the right word for it. Pulled apart and rebuilt – with _brown_ hair – twenty-five years after throwing myself into that damn beam. I guess that could be considered being reborn.

The Alliance base, the parts that have been rebuilt, anyway, looms into view. It looks like it had been hit hard during the war. It makes sense, of course. The Reapers targeted major cities, like LA, hitting major population centers, like office buildings and hospitals, and anything that was strategically important, like military bases. From the looks of things, the base hasn't been top priority for the rebuilding effort. Scaffolding and the skeletons of partially reconstructed offices dot the area. I'd like to think that this level of incompleteness is a good sign, that defense isn't the first thing on everyone's mind. Like maybe they've got more important things to worry about than blowing each other up. Maybe there's a chance at some kind of lasting peace after all. Maybe.

I glance toward the front of the car and see both Nigel and Maris looking back at me. "Oh, we're here!" Apparently I've been daydreaming.

Nigel lets me out. The air is warm. I never actually bothered asking what the actual date was. Warm air in LA doesn't really tell me that much. If I had to guess, I'd say mid-spring. I take a deep breath. There's that thickness to the air that comes from centuries of pollution and overpopulation. It's mixed with the lingering scent of destruction, the smoldering wreckage of the first war this city has ever seen. Or maybe that's just my imagination.

I turn back to Nigel. He's got a wan smile on his face and is nervously tapping his fingers against the car. Looking for a way to say goodbye, I guess. "So, ah..."

"You can just call me Alice," I say, offering him a way to acknowledge me without having to pretend he believes me.

"Right. Alice." He nods. It's strange to hear my first name on someone else's lips. For so long, since I walked into this building the last time, actually, I've been known as 'Shepard' to everyone I've met. That's how I was known. After a while, that name had taken on a life of its own. 'Shepard' became this thing, this entity that was more legend than fact. That had been useful. Even when _I_ wasn't recognized, that name was. I could use it and instantly be afforded the acknowledgement and respect that my accomplishments had earned me. And more. I had always referred to myself as 'Alice', though, throughout it all. I had to stay grounded, had to remember that I wasn't this all-powerful 'Shepard' that people kept calling me. Only one other person ever did the same. And now she's...

Oh god… It feels like my insides just turned inside-out. My chest caves in. I can't think about that. Not right now. I've gotten this far. Just… just worry about it later…

Nigel's face scrunches up. Maybe he understands what I'm going through. Even if he doesn't believe me. He extends a hand. I take it. "Well, Alice... If you ah... If you are who you say you are... Who you _think_ you are..." he corrects himself. "Do you think maybe I could get an autograph?"

All at once, the tension that I didn't realize I'd been holding onto releases. I laugh. I can't remember the last time I laughed. It feels good. Something I definitely need right now.

He shrugs. "I'm kind of serious, actually. I mean can you imagine? An _actual _autograph from _the_ Comman-_OW!_" He yelps as Maris squeezes an inch of his side between her fingers.

"Honestly, Nigel..." Maris chides him. She gets out of the car and faces me. I didn't grow up with parents, and she can't be more than a few years older than me, but the 'concerned mother' expression on her face is unmistakable. "Here..." she quickly pushes a credit chit in my hand. "It's not much, but... Our family fared better than most after the war. And I figured…"

My fingers tighten around the chit. I want so badly to give it back to her, but I know that I'm gonna need all the help I can get.

"Good luck, Alice." She extends a hand. I'm suddenly overwhelmed in the moment. Her generosity, her concern, even though I may just be a crazy person. I wrap my arms around her, probably not doing much to combat the crazy person thing. She's kind enough to accept the hug anyway, giving me a gentle pat on the back.

I pull away and have to dab at the tears in my eyes. Geez. When the hell did I become so emotional? I look over to Nigel, who's got his arms thrown wide, a big shit-eating grin on his face. I laugh and pull him in for a hug. "Thank you. Both of you."

"Good luck, Alice," Maris bids me as she gets into the car. Nigel follows and silently closes the door, giving me a little wave as he takes off.

"And to think, that was the _easy_ part of my day..." I let out a huge sigh and pocket the credit chit. I turn on my heel and head towards the Alliance base. It looms in my vision and I can't help but be struck with a sense of... _importance_ about the place. Maybe it's the 18-year-old me talking, but there's something about this base that just says 'Great things begin here.' I walk up the first few steps and suddenly I'm a teenager again, with a split lip, a pounding headache, and everything I own strapped to my back. Even before that, though, on my _first_ trip here I had been awestruck. Seeing the ships that had _touched_ _space_. The people who had _talked_ with _aliens_. For a snot-nosed gangbanger, it had all seemed magical. Of course, that's why I had gotten _caught_, but…

But things look different now. They _feel_ different now. But some part of my 18 year-old self still likens this place to Shangri-la or some other mythical place. So what is it that's different? Maybe it's all the half-finished construction everywhere. Maybe it's the fact that I know that not a single ship on this base or any other has left the Sol system in nearly 30 years. Maybe... I stop so suddenly I nearly fall over.

Maybe it's the 8-foot tall bronze statue of _me_ standing over there.

I stare at it for a good long while. Like maybe it's another trick of my eyes. I mean, green glowy veins are one thing, but a freaking _statue_? I blink a few extra times, just to make sure. I walk over to it. The damn thing towers over me. I had joked once or twice about what a statue of me would look like – given the Alliance's history with messing with my image for recruitment purposes – but this is... surprisingly accurate. I mean, my boobs aren't quite that big, but what are you gonna do? I had been expecting... well, not _expecting_ exactly... But if someone was going to make a statue of me, I'd have figured it would be gaudy or clichéd, like me charging into battle with some namby-pamby assault rifle, or me holding my hand up to the stars like some visionary. But that's just... _me_ up there. Granted they've got me in dress blues instead of the more casual attire I had gotten used to wearing during the war, but still...

I look around, half-hoping that just by standing here long enough, someone would stop and shout 'Hey look, it's Commander Shepard! Back from...' Well, back from wherever the hell I went. Maybe pointing would help?

But nobody's looking at the statue. Nobody's looking at me. I don't have such a big ego that I need people worshiping me at some altar. Hell, if they had asked I never would have allowed a statue of me to be made in the first place. But that statue probably went up over twenty years ago. Seeing it here now, quietly ignored by the masses, just drives home how long I've been gone. Finally, I can go somewhere without being instantly recognized, hounded by reporters, asked for help... I can be at peace.

And all it took was me shuffling off this mortal coil for a quarter-century.

I wander over to a bench on the other side of the causeway and take a seat, propping my elbows on my knees. Twenty-five years... Anderson's dead. Hackett died shortly after the war. The _Normandy_ crew... That knot reappears in my chest. I try and breathe through it. Everyone I know or care about is gone. Lost or dead or both. I bury my face in my hands. Just breathe, dammit. What the hell kind of higher power would send me back when I've lost _everything_? When I have _nothing_?

"Don't feel lonely." A little girl's voice interrupts my pity party.

I look up and see a young human girl and I nearly jump out of my seat. The green veins on her skin are thin but glow even more brightly than Nigel or Maris'. My heart pounds in my ears. I haven't had the greatest experience with children recently, and the green veins and eyes don't seem to be getting any less shocking. I can't help but wonder if she's a figment of my imagination or some manifestation of something else going on in my head.

She nonchalantly hops up onto the bench next to me. I find more comfort in the gentle thud of her butt landing on the seat than any rational person would. I take a calming breath and try and blink away the green from my vision. It doesn't help, but at least I know she's real. That's a start.

I give her a smile. "Sorry. Did I look lonely?"

She shakes her head. Kids her age always seem to exaggerate their movements, like their gestures are just too big for their little bodies to handle. It's kind of cute. "No, you _feel_ lonely. So I'm gonna stay here until you don't anymore."

Gotta love kids. "That's awfully kind of you, young lady."

She fires out an open hand towards my chest. "I'm Alice," she proudly states.

My breath catches in my throat. Okay, no need to read too much into that... I shake her hand, smiling. Genuinely, now. I think. "Th-that's a good name. Happens to be my name, too!"

"Cool!" Her face brightens. Even with her glowing eyes it's still charming to behold. She turns her attentions elsewhere, apparently content to _just_ sit with me until I feel less lonely. Cute kid. She starts swinging her skinny little legs while she sits, her feet are still a few inches from reaching the ground. The movement makes her bounce a little bit in her seat. I have to admit, seeing her so carefree does help me feel better, even if it's not doing much for the actual loneliness. For the moment, at least, I can just be content in the presence of another.

I look around the causeway and watch the people meandering by. It's late afternoon, and it seems like people are starting to head home for the day. The gentle glowing of their green eyes doesn't seem to have any effect on the lighting in the area, which is kind of strange. Making your eyes glow would be a neat trick to have up your sleeve for walking around in the dark. Of course, I'm still not sure if it's _them_ making their eyes glow or if I'm just seeing it all in my head.

The littlest Alice starts humming, drawing my attention back to her. She's tracing little designs on her bare legs with her finger. I chuckle softly. I wonder if I used to be that cute as a kid. I was probably a little more... Those... aren't random patterns on her legs. It's... She's tracing the veins of light!

"Hey, Alice," I ask, trying to mask the shock in my voice. She looks at me and I bare my forearm. Making sure she's watching, I slowly begin to drag my fingertip along one of the wider, more visible veins, following its sharp, geometric angles perfectly.

She gasps. "Cool! You can see them, too!"

Oh thank god, it's not just me... "So they're real? You can see them?"

"Mm hmm!" She nods happily.

I gesture out at the passers-by. "And... they can see them, too?"

Her little shoulders slump. "No. Most grown-ups can't see them. Or they just pretend they can't. My brother Jacob says he doesn't see them as much anymore. He's _twelve_."

I can't think of anything better to do but sit there and blink dumbly. The biggest revelation since I woke up and it's coming from someone who thinks twelve is old... "What are they?" I ask as though she were some sort of expert. Hell, as far as I know, she's the premier knowledge base of all things green and glowy.

She just shrugs. "I dunno. The robots say it's a sign."

Robots? "You mean the geth?"

She nods.

"What kind of sign?"

"A sign of the connection."

"So..." I can't believe I'm having this conversation with someone who still can't tie her shoes. "Did they say it's like the 'collective'?"

She shrugs, of course. "I don't know many robots. The ones I've met always seem happy when they find out I can see it, though!" Her face darkens. "Grown-ups mostly just tell me to stop pretending."

All of a sudden I get this powerful sense of disappointment, again from outside myself. From... From _her?_ Holy hell... I feel light-headed all of a sudden. I look around at the people walking by. The green eyes. The green veins. The _connection_. The Reaper child had said the beam would rewrite all life, organic and synthetic. That it would give them a new DNA. I just... It sounded so insane at the time. I mean, how is a beam of light supposed to reorganize all the DNA in the galaxy? But this connection...

I turn back to little Alice. "So... when you said that I _felt_ lonely..."

She looks up at me, big green glowing eyes smoldering happily.

"You actually _meant_ it. You actually _felt_ me being lonely?"

"Mm hmm." She nods. "Why? Can't you feel how others feel?"

Such a simple question. Like it's the most natural thing in the world to be able to feel how others feel. Or is that as far as it goes? Can they hear each others' thoughts? _Can you hear my thoughts?_

She blinks.

Apparently not. So it's just feelings, then... I have to wonder if _everyone_ has this empathic connection. If the green lines are an indicator of the connection, then the answer is yes. But... If it's like she said, and the 'grown ups' don't see it... Or they do, but they're pretending they don't? But does that mean that... My head starts to hurt. Geez... What the hell did I come back to?

"I gotta go. My dad's here," little Alice announces. I blink at her and the green is gone. I catch a glimpse of her eyes, her natural eyes. They're a very pretty shade of brown. She hops off the bench and give me an exaggerated wave before trotting off down the causeway to a smiling man.

I dumbly wave back, wondering if she has any idea how much my world's been changed in the last few hours. In the last few _minutes_. I let out a huge sigh and slide down the bench so I'm practically horizontal. If I'm not seeing the lines now, does that mean I'm not feeling what others feel? Or is it like always on, and the 'empath vision' is just when it's most potent? I thought I had caught a flicker of elation right before little Alice said she had to go. Maybe from seeing her dad? But that was when I was still... Oh for fuck's sake...

I try and crush my eyes with the heels of my palms. If I'm successful, maybe there's still a chance that I can wake up. Maybe I'm still dead and I can spend my time on that fantasy beach in heaven – without the Peeping Tom or green veins or statues of me this time. Or maybe I'm still alive and I'm still standing in front of the Reaper child. Or you know what would be great? I'm back on the _Normandy_ right before launching the attack on Cronos station. _You know what, Admiral? The Illusive Man can wait, let's make sure the Citadel isn't under attack or anything. And... bring the Crucible with us. You know, just in case._ And how the hell did the Reapers move the _Citadel_ to the Sol system anyway? Oh the mysteries of the universe...

I slap my hands down on the bench and quickly stand up. Thinking sure as hell hasn't gotten me anywhere, and it sure as hell isn't gonna give me back my old life. I almost start walking towards the Alliance base. But... why? Is _that_ gonna give me my old life back? Everyone I knew there is gone. And even if they weren't... My 18 year-old self saw a whole lot of amazingness in that base. But I've been on the other side of that recruitment line. I've had space rip the oxygen out of my lungs. I've met aliens that were both friend and foe. I've fought and killed and _died _for something 'greater than myself.' I was... I was _done _with that life. I was done with the Alliance. I wanted a life. I wanted _my_ life. My _own _life. I wanted to be selfish and small again. Once the war was over, Liara and I...

Oh god...

I crumple to one knee, all strength fleeing from me. What the fuck good is having a connection with everyone when all I can feel is alone? I pull myself back to my feet, still feeling like I've been wrung out. Right now my only option is to try and get the Alliance to acknowledge that I'm alive and... That's not good enough. Just because it's the only thing I've known for so long... I wouldn't be choosing it. It would be my last choice, my only option. And I've been given some crappy options recently.

My hand finds its way into my pocket, my fingers closing around the credit chit. It's _not_ my only option. I could just... walk away. Start a new life. A different life. Different paths, different options. Whatever good that may do, I'd still be choosing it.

I look up and see little Alice and her dad, hand in hand, walking away. She turns her head and glances at the big bronze statue of me. Her pace slows. I can see her eyes go wide. She whips around and looks right at me. I turn my back to her and start down the causeway.

"Daddy!" She exclaims.

No, sorry kid. That's not me. I'm not her. Not anymore.

* * *

><p><strong>-~oO* End of Part 1 *Oo~-<strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN (2012/04/20): **Hopefully that was a little more meaty. Don't worry, this is not the end of this story! I've got at least a half-dozen more chapters in here!  
><em>

_**Next: Sojourn**  
><em>


	4. Days Ahead

_I flop over onto the bed and try and catch my breath. Breaking the joining is always a shock to the system, but it's the past thirty minutes or so that have me out of breath. And smiling. Oh god did I need that... I turn my head and see Liara's panting as well. Her skin is glistening with sweat. Mm... I will definitely enjoy taking the time to find out what that tastes like. But not right now. _Definitely_ for round two, though..._

_My eyes trail up and down the body that I've been so busily exploring for this past half hour. I don't know how I haven't been demanding this at least twice a day. Goddamn Reapers... She is so gorgeous when she's out of breath like this. Only... she's got this strange look in her eye. Like she's dazed. I'd take a fair bit of pride in that, except something about it feels off. Like she's staring at something that she just can't see. Or trying to process something... I swear to god, if she's thinking about work..._

_I waggle my fingers in front of her face. "Hey..." My voice is soft. With all the stern talking I've had to do over the past few months, I savor every moment when I simply get to whisper into her ear._

_Her breath catches in her throat as she blinks back to reality from wherever she just was. She smiles sheepishly. "Sorry."_

"_You look like you were a million miles away..."_

"_I was... just thinking about the future."_

_I smile again. Although, I'm not sure I've actually stopped smiling for the past half hour. The future... Getting lost amongst the stars together... It's everything I've been fighting for. But for now... I heave myself on top of her so I'm straddling her hips. "I'm much more interested in having you _here_ and _now_, darling..."_

_She gives me that coy half-smile with just her eyes, shifting slightly under my weight. "Well, it seems you have me."_

_Not good enough. I lose myself in her eyes and I know that here and now just isn't good enough. Talking about the future just isn't good enough. I feel so stupid. I've been traipsing around the galaxy for months and I never once thought to stop at a proper jewelry store. I've already given her one silly human gift in place of what I'd been meaning to give her. I just hope she loves me enough to accept one more._

_I reach to the back of my head, where my hair is longest, and wrap my finger around one of the strands. I give it a yank, and manage to only wince a little bit is it pulls free._

"_What are you-"_

"_Give me your hand," I whisper, taking stock of the length of my prize. She obliges, holding her palm up in front of me. It takes me a few tries, but I manage to knot it properly around her wrist without breaking the strand. I hope it's as tough as people seem to think I am._

_She draws her hand back before her face and admires my handiwork, beaming._

_Looking at her I'm suddenly lost for words. "It's not... It's not quite the bracelet I wanted to give you, but..."_

_Her eyes begin to well up with tears, making speaking all the more difficult._

"_But... I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And... at least for a little while... I thought it'd be nice to pretend that I already am."_

_She blinks off a tear that slides down the side of her face. She looks at me again and doesn't have to say a thing because I can just feel it. All of it._

_I, however, feel the need to sound foolish. Something to keep away my tears. "Plus, this way if the worst happens, you could always take that and make a clone of-" A pillow boffs me in the face, cutting me off._

"_Don't..." She's smiling, but I know that my words hit a little too close to home, particularly with what lies ahead with the call we're waiting for._

"_I'm sorry..." I take each of her hands in mine, lacing our fingers together. The silly little ring that I gave her, that she's been so great to keep wearing all this time, presses hard against my fingers as I squeeze her hands tight, reminding me of my promise. "No... It means that... so long as there's any scrap of me left in this galaxy, I will always – _always_ – love you. And I will _always_ come back to you. No matter what."_

_She lets out a sigh and closes her eyes, squeezing my hand even more tightly. "You know..." Her eyes drift back to the makeshift bracelet. "Bondmate bracelets are _supposed_ to go on the _other_ ha-"_

_I bop her with a pillow and she laughs softly._

* * *

><p><strong><em>-~oO* Part 2 - Sojourn *Oo~-<em>**

* * *

><p><em>5 years later...<em>

If the sun on my back is any indication, I've worked through the entire night. I glance over at the clock. Yep. It's late enough in the morning that I probably don't have to worry about the music waking anybody in the building up anymore, but I still feel a twinge of embarrassment that I let it blast all night long. I scoot my stool over and use my elbow, the only part of my arm that's still clean, to turn the volume down to a more reasonable level. I still can't believe my luck in finding one of the stations the Flotilla broadcasts to. I never would have thought that we would have such similar tastes in electronic music.

I roll my stool back to my workstation and switch to a pick with a slight curve to it and set to work. I figure I've got another hour or two before the clay's set too much for this detail work, and the neck alone took me the better part of an hour. I've misjudged these things before and ruined a perfectly good piece, but I've had enough practice over the past year that I have a much better feel for the clay. Pencils don't have this problem, of course, but every once in a while you've gotta change mediums. A sketch is always satisfying, but if anybody had told me how cathartic getting my hands dirty with some clay would be, I'd have started years ago. Of course there was never any time for this kind of stuff in the Alliance. Even with all the so-called "downtime" we had, there were still chores upon chores to be done on a ship. I'm sure if I looked around my apartment right now I'd see more than a few chores that needed doing, but one of the benefits of living alone is nobody else is here to give a crap. Except the fish, but I always make sure they're fat and happy and they don't bother me.

But yeah, sculpting takes a good long time. At least the way I do it, it does. And there is no way I'd have had the time to do this while still enlisted. Speaking of free time... I stop and make a mental check of the day. If I did work through all last night, then... yeah, I've got work today. It's not 'til later in the afternoon, though, so I should still have time to finish this up. Maybe even enough time to squeeze in a good 90-minute workout beforehand. The rest of my crew thinks I'm nuts when I work out the same day that I've got a job. Construction work is usually more than enough to wipe anybody out. Or maybe it's dock work today? In any event, I think I just recover faster than they do. I used to recover fast back in my past life, too, but I had always blamed that on Lazarus and whatever Reaper tech Miranda had used to put me back together. Now... Now I don't know what to think. Except that I can get an intense 90-minute workout in before pulling a 6-hour job and feel fine the next morning. Hell, one time I broke my ankle and was back to walking on it less than a week later. I'd snuck a peek at my x-rays when they showed them to me afterward. My cybernetics looked like they were all gone. So, yeah. I don't know what to think. Might as well get some use out of it, though.

There's a pounding on my door. "Hey Gunn," I hear Carly call out. "You workin' the North Beach job this morning?"

I can't help but smile a bit. Allison Gunn... Thank you Kasumi. Not my most creative moment when I took that name on, but the name was still in the system, and Kasumi had been thorough enough that I hardly had to do anything to actually _become_ Miss Gunn. Minus the cover of _Badass Weekly_, of course. "No," I call back. "I think I got something in the business district this afternoon. I'll ask one of the boys later."

Carly gives another rap on the door, softer this time. "Alright." I catch a flutter of affection coming from her. "See you later tonight at the _Spray _then, Ali?"

"You know it!" I smile as I hear her footsteps fade away. There was that aspect of the name that I liked. 'Ali'... Like that little piece of _me_ that I managed to sneak in to my new life. Even with the move up north and the drastically short haircut to get away from the old me, I still had 'Ali.' I hadn't even intended the parallels when I took on the name, and it's not like anyone's called me that since I was a teenager, but... It feels good. Carly's good. A good friend. I have some good friends. I mean, as good friends as they can be when you have to lie to them about who you really are. But c'est la vie. Sometimes I wonder if we'll still be friends years from now or if... _mitigating circumstances_ will make separation necessary. It's probably all in my head, but... I look at my ID from five years ago and look in the mirror now and... I haven't aged a single day. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. I mean, plenty of people hold onto their youth for a long time, right? I'm not going to stay stuck like this forever and be forced to abandon my life and my friends every few decades when they realize that I haven't gotten any older and they're getting all feeble and grey. I mean, after Lazarus I assumed I'd probably outlive Miranda, and I'm healing faster just like after Lazarus. So... that's probably all this is.

I give one last little flourish of the pick and lean back, spinning the bust on the spindle. I think I'm actually done. That went a hell of a lot faster than I'd thought. The neck was really the only tricky part. The crest was surprisingly easy. It helps that it's not my first bust, but... this looks pretty damn good. I rotate the spindle back and forth along its axis, looking for anything I might have missed. Nope. It looks great!

Except it's still missing something, like there's this lifelessness to it. It's a face, but it just... And now I've got this sudden urge to paint it. I've never actually tried _painting_ any of my sculptures before. I'll have to grab some new paints before I start... The stuff I've got is only really good on canvas. And I'll probably want some new brushes. The texture of the skin is gonna be insane to try and properly capture. It's hard to describe unless you've seen it up close. Or touched it. So much like a human's, but very much _not. _Like the softest, most luxurious well-tooled leather that your fingers have ever felt. There's probably some brush technique that I can look up on the extranet that'll do the trick.

And I'll need a hell of a lot more blue. Like a sky blue, only darker. Like that sky that you see when you're flying right before you leave atmo and rush into space. That blue. You look at it and your heart just skips a beat.

But that's not all. There's the base of the crest, right where it meets the scalp. That gets lighter and lighter. Almost white, like morning sunlight peeking through your bedroom window. Or the way you can see rays of sunshine cutting through the water when you're diving in a clear ocean. You look up and see this blue-white sparkle. It's like... _biotics_. _Yes_. It's like the glow of her biotics. Right there, just at the top of the scalp. If she were a human, she'd probably be blonde. That's the impression I get.

And the eyes. Oh her eyes... I don't know if I've got anywhere _near_ enough skill to capture them properly. Her eyes are everything, the most important thing to get right. How do I show that intensity? That drive? That power? How do I capture that look? I look into her eyes and run a hand through my hair and it's _her_ fingers playing with my new shorter 'do. She looks at me with a smile, her eyes glisten and _that's_ what I need to capture. That sparkle. Maybe a glaze or a coat of polish? Would it be too much to use some crushed crystals? Or maybe that's cheating. Like I could afford that anyway...

Her lips. Mm... Deep, _deep_ blue, twinged with a bit of red. Like that moment five minutes after the sun's set and there's still a hint of light against the darkness of the sky. Or no... Like it's five minutes before dawn and the sun is rising behind the mountains and you hold your breath because you know what the new day holds and you can't wait for it to come. If her eyes are the window to her being, her lips are the evidence of life. Flush with the indigo blood that pumps through her veins. She can crook one corner of those lips up and just _level_ me. I see her smile and feel my toes tingle. I run a fingertip along her jawline, hoping to elicit a gasp from her. She obliges, her lips parting ever so slightly. I trace a gentle line down her neck. I can feel her quickening pulse beneath my fingertip. Her eyes become smoky, those bedroom eyes that are a treasure she saves just for me. I'll never be able to capture that with mere paints... She leans in close and I can smell her. That intoxicating scent of some exotic undiscovered flower. Perfume? On a sculpture? No, no... She doesn't wear perfume. It's just her. I can feel her breath caress my face. _Show me_, she whispers. Our lips press together. Mm... She tastes like...

Clay.

I'm jolted back to reality. I pull back and feel the wet kiss of clay smeared all over my mouth. I try to fight them but I can still feel the tears stinging my eyes. There's suddenly a black hole in my heart and I just collapse into a ball, burying my face in my shaking hands. I try to hold my breath against the sobs I know are coming, but it doesn't help. I lash out at the sculpture, knocking it off the spindle. It lands with a thud on the floor. I kick my stool out from under me and plop down on the ground. I don't deserve to sit up high like that. I try and wipe away the tears but all it does is smear more clay around my face, burning my eyes. I look at my sculpture, now misshapen _completely_ ruined. As though me holding it and kissing it hadn't been enough.

I don't know what to do. It's such a slippery slope. I've had bad days before. Bad days I can handle. I'll miss Joker or Garrus or EDI or anyone or everyone and I'll just sit and have a good cry and a few drinks and remember them and wear myself out and go to sleep. But yesterday was a _good_ day. And good days... are just the worst. Like I'll be out having a good time, laughing about something and I'll turn and to see her face because I want to see her laughing too... Or I'll see something that's so heartwarming I just _have_ to reach down and hold her hand... I look at my own empty, clay-covered hands. Even now, when I lost myself just then, I could actually _feel_ the texture of her skin under my fingers. And what can I do but fantasize about wrapping my arms around her and leaving clay-colored handprints all over her body?

The first few years there weren't many good days. And when there were, I got through them by telling myself that it would just take time. I tried convincing myself that I would... I dunno... get better eventually. _Move on_. Except that after a good day, a good night, I'd go to sleep and _feel_ myself reaching out to her in my dreams. And the hell of it is that I could _feel_ her there, reaching back for me. I still can. Like this connection is actually worth a damn. And I've looked online. Tried searching for her in the off chance that she hadn't gotten onto the _Normandy._ But...

I just feel cheated. Good days like yesterday? Those were our. They were _supposed _to be _ours_. _We_ were supposed to have these good days together. Our relationship had been plagued by the fucking Reaper war from the very beginning and we could never be together the way we wanted to. And when it finally ended we were finally going to have it, we'd finally have the rest of our lives to spend with each other however we wanted. That's what I'd been fighting for. That's what kept me going.

And I was robbed. Denied the option. Denied the choice. Denied the chance.

"Fuck it," I whisper to the empty room. I stand up, stepping over my ruined sculpture to slam a filthy hand down on the radio, shutting it off. I grab a light coat off my unused bed and slide my feet into whatever shoes I had kicked off last night. Yesterday may have been a good day, but I've decided today's a bad one. And I don't care if it's only 9 o'clock in the morning, it's 5 o'clock somewhere.


	5. Aimless

**_A/N: Many apologies for how long this chapter has taken. Work, school, a nearly complete rewrite, and a faulty thumb drive all conspired against me._**

**_It took so long to write that the EC came out and "clarified" several things. However, I've considered this story to be AU from the get-go, so I have no issue with ignoring certain aspects of canon, as you'll see._**

**_I hope you continue to enjoy, and thank you for your patience._**

* * *

><p><em>The Carnifex is a masterpiece of a pistol. With the stopping power and accuracy of a sniper rifle fifteen times its weight, you hardly ever need more than the six shots its clip capacity allows. I've taken out husks in a single shot. I've downed cannibals in two. He's seen me bring down a brute with nothing more than this very pistol and some fancy footwork.<em>

_So I know that, now that it's pointed at his head, I've got his attention._

"_This isn't a request, Vakarian."_

_He's silent, nothing but his mandibles flicking angrily at me. If his eyes were hate-cannons he'd be unloading on me right now. "You cannot seriously be-"_

"_I am." I can feel the blood pumping in my chest. I have to work hard to keep my breathing steady. But the gun doesn't move. "When _Hammer_ moves out-"_

"_No."_

_I push the extended barrel forward, bringing it into contact with the bridge of his nose. "When _Hammer_ moves out-"_

"_I won't-"_

"_You will," I remind him. "Otherwise I will shoot you in your fucking face and find someone else." I don't know if turians can grind their teeth, but if they can, he's doing it. His mandibles are flared so wide they might peel off his face. And if I were any other person I'd probably be dead right now. "When _Hammer_ moves out... I don't care how you have to do it, but you take Liara, and-"_

_He's actually growling at me now. "Shepard..."_

"_You take Liara and you get her out of here. You get her back to the _Normandy_. And you make sure she stays there._"

_The plates on his nose bunch up. He looks like he's ready to bite my throat out._

"_Once she's there, you can do whatever you want. Come back here and beat me to death if it makes you feel better."_

"_Damnit, Shepard-"_

"_LISTEN TO ME!" Damnit, I'm losing it. One more minute of this and I'll be gone. "I _need_ you to do this. I _need _her to..." My voice cracks. I don't even get a minute. My shoulders start to tremble. But the gun doesn't move. I make damn sure of it. "I can't do what I might need to-" A sob cuts me off. I manage to swallow the next one. My eyes start to sting with tears. "I need to know that she'll be alright."_

_His mandibles slowly start to relax back against his face. His chest rapidly rises and falls. "You know she'll never forgive either of us for-"_

"_Well that's tough..." He's in. He gets it. He doesn't like it but I couldn't care less. He'll do it. My arm finally relaxes._

_He notices and snaps into action. Slapping the gun away and grabbing me by the collar, he whirls me around and slams me against the wall. His face is an inch away from mine, but I'd be able to recognize that look in his eyes from a mile away. He hates me. I don't care. Let him hate me. He'll do what I've asked, what I've ordered him to do. Nothing else matters. "I hope you don't mind a little last-minute insubordination... but you had damn well better come back alive..." The subtle harmonics in his turian voicebox make it sound like a growl. Maybe he is growling. I'd be growling, too. I'd hate me, too._

_He drops me and I brush past him, wiping the tears from my eyes. I have every intention of keeping my promise, but not to him. If all that's left of me when this is done is a broken finger and some red hair I will inch my way back to her. If it takes me a thousand years I will find her. I plan on keeping my promise._

_But right now I have to look presentable, 'cause I'm about to say goodbye to the woman I love._

* * *

><p><em>Several hours later...<em>

I heave two more bags of cement off the truck and onto my shoulders before heading back to the construction site. Even in San Francisco's cool early evening air I've been sweating hard enough for long enough that I'm pretty sure all the tequila I downed this morning is completely out of my system. This headache sure as hell hasn't gone anywhere, though. Serves me right, drinking like that before a shift. But, whatever... It wasn't the first time and I'm sure it won't be the last. I just gotta keep my fingers crossed that it happens less and less as time goes on. I mean, things _do_ get better, right? With time? I figured five years might be enough to start feeling like I belong here. But maybe the next five...

The pounding in my head actually helps me set pace, one plodding step taken for each throb in my temples. Step-throb. Step-throb. Step-throb. Or maybe it's the other way around? Throb-step. Throb-step... I dunno. I gotta find something to keep me going. This work is so mindless I'm sure I'd probably just up and forget to do it at some point or another if someone wasn't pointing me in the right direction. Lift this. Move that. Knock that down. Pick that up. All the stuff my N7 training prepared me for... But it's a living. And I'm helping to rebuild civilization, one thirty-kilo bag of cement at a time. Can't just rest on my laurels. Though I'm sure if anyone actually knew who I was or what I'd done I'd be able to do just that.

"Yo, Gunn," I hear my adopted surname shouted from across the way. "Wrap it up! We're done here for the night!"

I nod and continue my leaden pace, dumping my payload on the pile with the rest. I look back at the truck, which still has a half-dozen more bags to be unloaded. Three more trips. Seems like a waste to head out now and leave that for the morning. That's the closest I come to having motivation, the looming threat that it'll still be there for me tomorrow. I thumb away some of the sweat from my brow, let out a big sigh, and head back to the truck, flopping two more bags onto my shoulders when I get there.

I hear someone honking their horn. "Geez, woman, come _on_! You planning on building that thing by yourself _tonight _or something?"

Maintaining pace with the pulse in my head, I turn and see Carly leaning out her skycar, that toothy, open-mouthed smirk plastered across her face. I shout back at her. "I just might!"

"Your shift ended thirty-five seconds ago, Ali. Why the hell aren't you in my car yet?"

I stifle a laugh and toss the bags onto the pile, turning to make my way back to the truck.

"Damnit, Gunn! You don't get your ass over here right now I'm leaving without you!"

"Promises, promises, Car!"

She scrunches up her face and leans on the horn. I stop and let out a groan toward the sky. She does this. _All the fucking time_, she does this. Sometimes I wonder if the only reason I keep her around is that she's another thing that pulls me along through the day-to-day parts of life. Fuck it. That cement will either be there tomorrow or it won't. Doesn't matter now. Shift's over, right? I turn and head back to the lockers, making sure to flip off Carly in the process. She relents on the horn and even at this distance I can feel her smug sense of satisfaction. Weird how this empathy thing seems to lessen over distance. But I guess if you really were connected to every living thing everywhere at all times it'd drive you nuts.

I toss my bag filled with sweat-stained work gear into the back seat and plop down next to Carly. She's got this exaggerated expression on her face, one eyebrow raised to the ceiling like I've suddenly grown purple tentacles from my forehead. "What?"

She starts the car and lifts off, never taking her eyes off me. "Wanna swing by your place so you can shower?"

"Nah," I shake my head. "Let's just go."

Her eyes drift back forward, finally making sure we're not gonna crash. I can still feel skepticism flowing off of her. "You sure?"

I let out a sigh. "Car, I'm not trying to get laid tonight. I'm just getting some drinks."

"Uh, huh..." She sticks her tongue in her cheek, mouth hanging open. She does this when she thinks I'm lying. "But, uh..." She reaches over and picks something out of my hair. She holds it in front of me and crumbles it between her fingertips.

Shit, I thought I'd gotten it all out... I shift in my seat so I'm not looking at her. My hand unconsciously reaches up to my head, feeling for any remaining strays. Memories rush into my mind. Clay-covered hands running through my hair. Tears smearing across my face. "I'll be fine."

"Alright..." she shrugs. "And thanks, Ali. You're a good friend."

I raise one eyebrow at her, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I mean, not everyone would be willing to ug themselves up just to make their friend look like the hot one by comparison." She giggles, bracing herself for the impending slug of retaliation. "I really appreciate it."

I half-heartedly comply, offering her a small smile and a backhand to the shoulder. "Fine, 'hot one.' But first round's on you."

She grins, shifting her focus back to driving. For several moments she seems content to just ride in silence. But with her, silence never lasts. "Anything you wanna talk about?"

I feel the question coming before I hear it. It's a murky splotch in her otherwise warm, happy demeanor, and it's spreading. Dealing with 'real' things always makes her uncomfortable, but she's a good person and sometimes she can't help but ask. I wonder how I feel to her, whether she can actually tell if something's going on or if she even pays attention to her empathic sense. Car's never been a 'believer' in that bond. Not many people are. But not believing in it doesn't exactly turn it off. I shake my head. "I'll be fine."

"Not what I asked."

I huff out a little sigh. "What makes you think I've got something to talk about, Car?"

"Gosh, what _could_ it be...?" She strikes an exaggeratedly thoughtful pose. Everything about Carly is exaggerated. She talks with her hands. She holds ridiculous poses until you acknowledge them. Her voice runs through three octaves in any normal conversation. Kind of like if someone decided to create the exact opposite of an elcor and stick it into a blonde woman with big teeth. All energy and expression. Kind of like an antipode to _me_ these days. We make a pretty good pair, actually. Forming two normally-tempered people when taken in aggregate. "First clue was probably – _probably_, mind you – that you _reek_ of tequila." She laughs. "I mean seriously, woman, were you drinking your entire shift, or is that all carry-over? And how the hell did they let you work like that anyway?"

I sit there and take it with a roll of my eyes. There's no animosity in her. She cares and the ribbing is the only way she knows how to express it without getting uncomfortable. "Eh, they didn't care. The bottle only said no operating any _heavy_ machinery, and all I had were _these guns._" I flex my arms as I make what is probably the lamest joke I've made all year.

Still, it gets her to laugh. She reaches over and feels up my bicep. "Well the whole 'cavewoman' thing with the muscles and the uh..." Biting her lip, she wipes what I can only imagine is more clay that I've missed off of my face. "The _crap_ on your face and hair _totally_ does it for me!" She smirks, but I feel something inside of her swirling about. She shifts in her seat. "But um..." She shrugs, fidgeting with the steering gear. Even if I couldn't feel her discomfort twisting around my own gut, her physical movements outnumbering her spoken words would have said volumes. "I dunno... You just get these days when you're all down and stuff. And not your 'normal' down, either... I get worried, you know? Like one day I'm gonna come knocking on your door and you just won't answer. And it feels like today is one of those-"

I close my hand around hers, giving it a little squeeze. "I'm fine, Car. Alright?"

"Alright." She gives me a smile that might look like a frown from the right angle. "Just don't go killing yourself or anything, 'cause I am _not_ taking care of your fish!"

I laugh. I guess I keep her around for other reasons, too.

* * *

><p>The <em>Sea Spray<em> is slightly more crowded than usual tonight. In Carly's mind, the busier a place is, the less reason there is for us to go there. Probably means that we're only a few weeks away from finding a new local haunt. But I kind of like the _Sea Spray_. It's definitely a bar-goer's bar. Plenty of seating. Lots of places for quiet conversation or loud, obnoxious parties. The bartenders pour generously. There's even decent food. In fact, it's one of the few dextro-friendly places to get food in the area, so it's always got its fair share of turians and the occasional quarian group. Makes things feel more... _familiar_. I like the diversity. Too much of one thing and you start to go crazy. Maybe that's why Carly likes to switch up where we go all the time.

The two of us filter in and head back to our 'usual' corner. About a dozen of 'the gang' is already there and they raise their glasses in cheer as we approach. Their collective sense of happiness buffets me like a sudden gust of wind. I smile politely and accept one of the bottles of beer offered me, taking a swig. I should probably get some food in me before I have too many of these, but maybe I'll just wait 'til everyone else orders. I don't really feel like taking charge tonight.

For the next half hour I sit and watch. That's mostly what I do these days. I watch. I smile when everyone else smiles, laugh when everyone else laughs, and raise my beer when everyone else does. I drink the drinks that get ordered and nibble at the deliciously greasy food that gets brought to the table. But mostly I just watch. I watch Carly, talking with her hands, moving from table to table, fully engaged in everything she does, and I can't help but envy her. Part of it is that she reminds me of my younger self. Not physically or even in her demeanor. I was never quite the social butterfly she is, even before the Alliance. But taking such unadulterated pleasure in the simple company of others? That was definitely me.

And that's the problem. I don't feel that these days. I _can't _feel that these days. There's this connection with everyone but I always feel so disconnected. Like I don't belong or they don't belong or I'm missing someone or...

I sigh and glance over at a basket of some kind of fried hunks of potato covered in a greasy red sauce. I think I've already eaten a half-dozen things tonight that could cause a heart attack, but this one looks new. I reach across the table and slide the basket toward me, getting the tips of my fingers covered in whatever that gunk is on top. I lick them clean. Well, it is tasty. Spicy. I reach over and snag two of the potato chunks and pop them in my mouth. I'm not even hungry, but putting something in my mouth gives me something to do. I'm sure if I eat too many more of these I might just fall into a coma. The food here's good, not necessarily good _for _you. But that's me, being a badass, throwing caution to the wind and having yet another helping of fried junk. That's my life these days. That's the level of excitement I get. I chuckle, managing to crack a little smile.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Carly pounces, scooting next to me in the booth and bumping our hips together. "Finally having a good time, uggo?"

"Oh yeah!" I exclaim, mouth still full of half-chewed potato. I reach over and grab another messy handful and push it at – not necessarily _in_ – my mouth, getting it everywhere. "So much fun! I love being the ugly one!" I laugh, apparently forgetting for the moment that I don't do that. I guess Carly's got that effect on me. She's laughing too, so maybe it's okay. Maybe I need more of her in my life. More of this in my life. "You getting any action outta this, or am I _really_ gonna have to turn on the charm?"

She shrugs. "Nah. Slim pickings tonight... Pretty sure I've already made my way through the bone-able population of this bar." She suddenly straightens up in her seat. Looking across the room, a little smirk plays across her face. "Maybe... maybe it's time to change things up?"

"Oh come on, are we changing bars _again_? I _like_ this place!"

"I mean tonight. Maybe it's time to give someone _else_ a shot?"

My eyes narrow. "What do you..." Her perverse sense of glee sends a great big rock crashing down into my stomach as soon as I realize what was probably the source. "Oh fuck me..."

Carly belts out a laugh. "That's the whole poi-"

"It was a bad choice of words, Car!"

"Is that how it goes? Is that what you said to him?" Her grin widens. She starts thrusting her hips in her seat. Her voice drops low, eyes rolling back into her head. "Oh fuck me... Oh fuck me... _Oh fuck me..._"

I bury my face in my hands. "Oh my god..."

"Oh my god!" She gasps. "Oh my god! _Oh my god!_"

I'm caught somewhere between morbid embarrassment and wanting to laugh. "Jesus fuck, gimme a break, Car. It was _one_ time..."

"One time so far, you mean!"

"No... _One time_. And why the hell do you think I don't drink that much when there are _people_ anymore?"

"Oh come on, you need this! And he's cute! I... think... I mean, turians aren't exactly my _thing_, you know? I prefer my lovers to be a little less... not-human. No judgement, though!"

"Car, I'm really not looking to..." I trail off when I realize she's not listening to me.

She stands up in her seat, trying to get a better look across the crowd. "Hm... I don't think he sees us. _Selix!_" She yells out, giving a great big wave. She smiles. "Okay, now he sees us."

I glare at her, trying to say with my eyes what she just ignores with her empathic sense.

"You'd better clean yourself up, uggo. He's on his way over here!" She tosses me a napkin.

I groan and half-heartedly start wiping the sauce off my face. "Why do I tell you _anything_?"

Selix walks towards our table carrying three bottles of beer. Most turians I've met always sauntered everywhere. Selix definitely walks. There's no swagger with him. He sets down two of the beers in front of us and smiles. He brought beers for us. Politeness. Another thing that's kind of... off about him. Turians can be cordial, but polite is another thing entirely. Maybe he's just a bad turian, then? No... I've known a bad turian, and Selix is definitely not Archangel material. Would I have slept with him if he was? Great... Now I've got an image of me sleeping with Garrus. This is why I don't see a shrink. I do _not_ need to know what's inside my head.

"Evening, ladies," he says with a smile.

"Hey Selix!" Carly sing-songs his name. She scoots to get up. "Actually, could you watch my drink for me? I gotta use the little girls' room!" She brushes past him, and he turns and watches her depart.

I try to kill Carly by staring death rays at the back of her head. She turns and smiles at me, pretending to be all innocent. As soon as Selix turns his back on her, though, she bites down on her lower lip and thrusts her hips several more times. Bitch.

"This seat taken?"

I look up at him. Right... you're still here. I take a deep breath to brace myself and make a valiant effort at a smile. "Doesn't look like it to me!" _Doesn't look like it to me? _My god, this is how you communicate with people? No wonder you don't feel any _real _connection to anyone if THAT'S how you talk when you open your mouth.

He sits across from me, takes a long draft from his beer, and follows it up with a contented sigh. "So how's it going, Ali?"

I shrug. "Oh, you know... Can't complain."

He chuckles. "I think we both know that's not true. You can always find something worth complaining about. But you just have to make due with what's available."

I laugh softly. "Well if that isn't the perfect m-" I catch the rest of the sentence in my throat. Best not to finish it. There are stupid remarks and then there are bitchy remarks. And_ the perfect metaphor for THIS situation _would probably come off a lot bitchier than I really mean to be. Especially to Selix. Not like he ever did anything to me. Other than go home with me, that is. And as far as I can tell, he never told anyone about it. Never asked for round two. Never even mentioned it to me. Of course, I don't know whether that's 'cause he's a good guy or just 'cause he didn't want to bring up all the drawings and paintings of a certain asari that I had all over my apartment. Oof... It's a wonder he's even speaking to me right now. Did I even call out the right name? This is why I don't talk to people anymore.

"Mm? What's that?"

My throat tightens. "Ah..." Shit, how long have I been spacing out? "Uh... Nothing," I say, shaking my head. Oh come on, Alice. Gotta do better than that. I reach over and pick up the basket of potato things and hold it up. "Potato?" Wow... Smooth. You must have them lining up to get with you.

He eyes them, mouth hanging open briefly. "Well, I actually like potatoes – I can do the carbohydrates, mind you – but I'm pretty sure those are fried in levo-protein oil, which ah... Well, _violently ill_ is a good way of putting it." He chuckles.

I flinch slightly. _Real _smooth. "Right..." I set the basket down and wipe my fingers clean on the napkin. "Sorry."

He chuckles. "Honest mistake."

I give a pathetic, embarrassed smile. "Eh, it was stupid."

He shrugs. "Don't worry about it." He hoists his beer before him. "At least we've got beer."

A lazy smirk finds its way onto my lips. I raise my untouched bottle. "Amen to that," I say, taking a brief sip. I take a deep breath and have to catch myself before I sigh so loud I knock him out of his chair. "So how are things with you, Selix?"

His mouth begins moving but no words come out. It's a pretty neat trick. Or maybe I just check out so quickly and so completely it only _seems_ like he's not saying anything. Eh, probably the latter. He's probably talking about work or friends or how he's still saving up for a skycar so he doesn't have to share a ride with what's-his-name anymore. All pretty tame things. Mundane, you might even say. Especially compared to the life I've led. I try not to do that too often, though. Compare the life I had before to the one I've got now. It doesn't do me any good to dwell on the past. I can't go back. Not even sure I'd want to, really. Except for the people. I miss the people I once knew.

I give a small sigh and try to mask my indifference by drinking my beer. I chuckle at the thought. I'd need a hell of a lot more than one beer to drink away this life. And it's funny. Even after everything that I've been through, everything I've seen, done, and had done to me, I'm not an alcoholic. Though I suppose that's _exactly _what an alcoholic would say, isn't it? Drinking by yourself at ten in the morning? Going to work reeking of tequila? Floating through each day in a haze, unable to really get excited about anything? I dunno. The signs are there.

But no. I don't want to escape this life. At least not the kind of escape alcohol provides. I'm sure what he's talking about isn't even that boring. There's just... It doesn't feel like there's anything about this life that's worth holding onto. That's worth getting excited over. Like I'm just going through the motions, being pulled along by the current 'cause there's nowhere that I want to swim to. Maybe that's why I'm so quick to check out? 'Cause it's so much less interesting than the life I had before? Eh... I'm pretty sure I wanted the mundane, even back then. Maybe _especially_ back then. I wanted a life where I wasn't always fighting all the time. Reapers or Cerberus or politicians or geth or whatever. I wanted my own life. I wanted to do things for me and not just for the 'greater good.' I wanted the pedestrian. The mundane. The predictable. I wanted an ordinary life. I just...

I wanted one with someone extraordinary.

I wanted a life with Liara.

And now we're back to what started my morning drinking binge in the first place. I swallow a sigh and look at Selix, who has somehow managed to continue to talk despite my lack of engagement. And yet I sense nothing but a pleasant contentedness coming from him. I'm pretty sure he likes me. I mean, aside from the sleeping with me bit. Maybe Carly's right. Maybe I need this. Maybe I need someone. And maybe that someone is Selix? He's certainly not what I'd call extraordinary, but I could definitely do worse than him. Hell, I _have_ done worse than him. I mean, I've set the bar pretty low. I just don't have the scar across my face to prove it anymore.

Maybe I just have to make the best of what's available?

"So anyway," he continues, obviously wrapping up whatever he had just been talking about. "What's new with-"

Someone bursts through the door with a huge clatter. Through the crowd I can see it's a human, looking positively manic, all wide-eyed and smiling weirdly. "Holy shit, it's happening! It's happening! It's _happening! Holy shit!_" He scrambles over to the bar and climbs on top of it, laughing in that nervous, gasping way that you laugh when your world's just been rocked. He reaches over and one by one starts turning the vid screens hanging on the wall to the same channel.

"This has got to be the weirdest drug reaction on record," I mumble.

Selix shrugs. "I doubt he's dusting. Red sand's supposed to be a downer, right? Besides, where are you even gonna _get_ red sand these days?"

"Please, Vakarian," I scoff. "It's not like Earth needed the galaxy to invent drugs for us. You think we didn't know how to get-"

He cocks an eyebrow. "What did you call me?"

An icy hand grips my insides. Whoah... _That's _never happened before. Mercifully, before I can even start to ponder what the hell that little slip of the tongue means, several people start barking their discontent at the intruder. Their sentiment feels like nails digging into the back of my neck.

Someone calls out. "Hey, man, what the hell are you-"

He's gasping and smiling. "You... have _got_ to watch this! A friend of mine works in the asari-"

"You got _friends_?" Someone jokes, sending a spattering of laughter through the crowd.

"-science division," he continues, apparently oblivious to the crowd. He hops off the bar and faces the vid screens, gasping for breath. "She said they'd been working on something big. But holy shit! I never thought... She just told me..." He drifts off, staring with mouth hanging open at the vid screens. The sheer spectacle of his entrance has caught enough interest that most of the people in the bar turn their gazes up to join his.

On the screen, a trio of official-looking asari stands in front of what appears to be the asari consulate across town. It's practically the middle of the night, but there are enough auto-cams with their floodlights to make the place look bright as day. Weird time to be holding a press conference. One of them, a regal looking matron with golden eyes that stand out against her dark purple skin, steps up to the podium. It looks like she's trying very hard to hide a smile, and succeeding for the most part. "Good evening. I apologize for calling you all here at this odd hour, but when you hear what I am about to say, I believe I'll be forgiven."

Someone in the bar calls out to the stranger who barged in. "What's going-" Someone else shushes him.

The asari continues. "Thirty years ago, the Crucible fired, and in one swift move the Reapers were turned back and the threat of galactic annihilation at their hands was ended once and for all. This victory, however, came at a great cost. Not only did we lose the heroic Commander Shepard and the thousands of others in the battle for Earth, but the Charon relay was badly damaged and very nearly destroyed, leaving us no way out of the Sol system and stranding tens of millions of us with no way to return home.

"Just over fifteen years ago, in a joint effort with the former Council races, the Charon relay reconstruction project was completed." Gasps rise up from the crowd, both in the bar and at the press conference. I pick up an undercurrent of discontent and distrust slinking off the bar crowd and crawling up my skin. The matron raises a hand, asking for silence. "I understand your surprise. This event was kept quiet because we had fears about the state of the rest of the Mass Relay networks and did not wish to raise false hopes. Our fears, unfortunately, were well-founded. The Charon relay, while technically operational, requires a functional mate in order to work: an endpoint to its start point. It would appear that what happened in this system was propagated to the Arcturus relay, and likely other systems as well. In fact, we believe that the entire Mass Relay network has been just as damaged."

Anger and frustration mix together with fear and despair as the next round of responses emanate from the crowd. The matron doesn't bother asking for silence, but raises her own voice and quickly continues. "This has not left us without options. Every ship in existence today can travel several times faster than the speed of light. A naïve examination of current technology would lead one to believe that a ship could cross the galaxy in a matter of decades at normal FTL speeds. However, any ship attempting to make such a trek would run out of fuel long before even the closest cluster was reached."

A smirk plays across her face. "But let it never be said that we have ever been content with _current_ technology. And perhaps this will put to rest the belief that asari take forever to get anything done." She presses a button on a podium and a large holo-vid screen materializes in the air next to her. "Silene? Can you hear me?"

Silence.

She manages to maintain her composure, despite her obvious discomfort. "Ah... Please excuse me. We seem to be having-"

The vid screen suddenly jumps to life, the feed whirling as someone apparently jostles the camera. "Sorry! Sorry! Yes, I'm here Farelle. I'm here." A terribly young asari maiden – she can't be much older than Liara – appears on the screen, sounding out of breath. Slender and pretty, the smudges of dirt or whatever is on her face do little to mar the unbridled joy in her expression. "Can you hear me? C-can you see me?" Her brow quickly furrows, and she reaches a hand towards the camera. "Shoot, I was sure I got everything back to-"

The matron, Farelle straightens and smiles. "Yes, Silene. We can all see you _and_ hear you."

"Oh! Oh good. I've working with the camera, trying to boost the video quality, but then I got worried that too high a quality would put too much stress for the new relay link. But then I thought 'it's just one camera feed,' and the old relays were handling trillions of zetabytes of-"

"Silene..."

"-data at a time. I mean the entire _extranet_ was handled over the old relay network, so this one camera feed would have equaled, what, _maybe_ one-point-two quadrillionth of the original bandwidth of the extranet even at the highest quality? But our comm buoys hadn't been threshold tested nearly as much as I would have-"

"_Silene_..." Farelle snaps. Several chuckles can be heard coming from the press conference.

"Yes? Oh! Sorry. I just get-"

"Silene, why don't you tell everyone where you are."

The smile that spreads across the maiden's face is more brilliant than the sun. She nibbles her lower lip and reaches for the camera. "Well, ah... you can see here..." The video feed shakes as she picks up the camera. There's an impressive sweeping plain of tall grasses undulating in the wind. It stretches for miles, meeting with a great green mountain range in the distance. "Ah, well that's not, umm... Sorry..." The camera jolts and we see a small shuttle in the near distance. A handful of asari in science garb are busy loading – or unloading – smallish crates. Silene waves at them. "Oh, uh, there's the crew. Well, _some _of the crew. Obviously this is just an away team, the rest of the crew is still on the-"

"Silene!" One of the crew yells out, placing a hand on her hips and gesturing off to the side. "Will you point that damn camera where you're supposed to?"

"Right! Sorry!" Silene turns the camera one more time and focuses on the remnants of a city, partially reconstructed. "Ah, well... It probably doesn't look like much... But..."

Someone at the press conference wails loudly. A buzz of confusion shimmers through the bar as people look around to each other for answers. They don't have to wait long. A voice calls out from the press conference, clearly audible even over the chatter.

"It's _Benning_!"

More gasps. I peer closer at the ruins. It… could very well be Benning, but it's hard to tell. Most agro planets tend to look alike, and even if she had actually _gotten_ the quality of the film up to where she had wanted it...

"We landed about a week ago and-"

"Wait," Selix says, rising from his seat. "They _landed_? On _Benning_? I thought she just said the Charon relay wasn't working? How the hell did they get there?"

Silene continues her chatter, obviously oblivious to the rising din of the crowd. "-and it was _so_ exciting to see the quantum waypoint net in action! Having that comm buoy come through – and right on target, too! Wow! I mean the net's a fraction the size of a regular Mass Relay, so it can't receive anything larger than a few meters in diameter, but even when you consider the scale, the _precision _that we managed to achieve receiving package was-"

A million questions seem to be shouted all at once. Some of them are easier to make out than others. A working Mass Relay? A _mobile_ Mass Relay? Is this Reaper tech? Are they really on Benning? Is this a trick? Is this for real? Can I go home? Can we all go home? Is my son alive? What does this mean? What does this mean? What does this _mean? _Over and over and over.

The possibilities definitely get my interest raised, at least as much as anything about me been raised recently. A queasy uncertainty roils through me as the crowd gets restless, feeding on its own hesitation. The same is probably happening at the press conference. Farelle, eyebrows narrowing, raises her hands and tries to speak over the din. "Yes, after a two year journey, the _Dawnseeker _has made landfall at Benning, in the Arcturus Stream. The ship features several new technologies... technologies I might add which are even now being made available to _all_ races." Her voice rises in occasional crescendos as she tries to match the crowd's timbre. "_Most notably _it features a new... _a new engine_ and drive core which... _which while lower_ power than standard FTL drives, operates at a fraction of the fuel rate, _and _can be recharged via an array of solar panels and various... Because of this..." She huffs, trying to maintain focus. "_Please,_ if you will just..." The crowd, both in the bar and at the conference, is getting excitable, making the hairs on my arms stand on end. "There are a number of... of technical details which really should be..." She can barely be heard over the crowd. She throws her hands up in defeat, turning to her companions. I can barely make out "they're not listening to me."

The sense in the room, and I imagine at the press conference, alternates between uncertainty and excitement at the possibilities presented. It's no surprise that Farelle seems to be losing the battle to keep a sober expression. One of her companions strides forward. She shoulders past Farelle with an even bigger smile on her face and grabs the microphone. "_Friends_... With this new technology, we _can_ _rebuild_ the relay network! One by one, cluster by cluster, system by system we _will_ reconnect this galaxy! We _will_ see our homeworlds again! We _will_ see our families again! We _will..." _Each new gasping proclamation is like adding fuel to a flame. The younger matron's expression goes from elated to electric, no doubt feeling the effects of the crowd's excitement. "We will..." Breathless, she turns towards Farelle and pulls her into a deep kiss, leaving Farelle staggering. The crowd cheers louder, and for a moment it looks like Farelle will be able to maintain some composure. She's nowhere near the microphone, but her _Oh screw it_ is pretty easy to discern. Particularly when she grabs her companion's face and presses their lips together.

The crowd in the bar is deafening. People are jumping on chairs, hugging each other, kissing each other. Tears flow freely. Drinks get raised and spilled as toasts are sloppily made. It's like an echo chamber of joy, each person contributing to a collective elation, and each person feeding off of it which only serves to elevate the mood further. And before I know it, my eyesight shifts slightly and I can actually see it. The green lights in everyone's eyes. The circuit board of green veins lining everyone's skin. The connection visualized. Excitement shared, pulsing through every living thing in the area. I wonder if anyone else is seeing what I'm seeing right now. If they are, they don't acknowledge it. But I _know_ everyone is feeling it. _I'm_ feeling it. My heart is pumping harder. My hands are tingling. A smile forms on my face.

But I'm still sitting here. I'm not jumping up and down. I'm not hugging or kissing anyone. I'm happy, sure. I can feel everyone else's excitement washing over me, but _I'm_ not excited. What the hell is wrong with me? Probably the most notable event in the past thirty years, certainly the only exciting event in the last five years of _my _life, and I can't get excited about it? This intoxicating tidal wave of happiness and I'm just feeling... Muted. Cut off. Guarded.

Guarded... Well when I think of it like that it's obvious what's going on. I won't _let_ myself get that happy. I won't let myself go. Because I know when I do, _every _time I do, when I'm at my happiest, I remember that she's not right here next to me. I look for her and… she's not there.

So I just plod through this life, putting on foot in front of the other, forever on guard, never allowing myself to be present and appreciative of everything that I've got. Never _really _enjoying anything or anyone. Never really feeling any drive. Or draw. Because I know if I do, if I let myself just _be,_ some part of me instinctually will look for Liara and...

_Instinctually._

And it hits me. My face sinks down into my hands as realization sweeps over me. Oh my god I can't believe I've been so... so _fucking _stupid. What the hell have I... My entire life, from the moment that I ran away from that orphanage to the time that I joined up with the Alliance to the first time I kissed Liara, I have always been a creature of instinct. I've listened to whatever it was inside of me that pointed me in the right direction. Every punch I've ever thrown, every fork in the road I've ever taken, every speech I've ever given. Sometimes it's led me to make great decisions. Sometimes not. But it's always led me. It's always shown me the way. I've always followed it.

And for the past five years it's been telling me to find Liara. And I've been ignoring it. Like a fucking idiot. And I've been listless and lost because of it.

There haven't been many moments in my life where I get realizations like this one. All at once it's like this great big weight has been lifted from my shoulders, or a veil has been pulled back. I feel light. I'm aware of myself breathing. I'm here. I'm alive.

And apparently I'm moving. I don't even remember standing up, but I'm on my feet. And I'm moving. Moving towards the door. A series of blurry, half-recalled memories flicker through my mind as I push my way through the crowd. Details click into place as the strategic part of my brain goes to work. The first inklings of an idea begin to take shape. I'm not 100% sure where I'm going yet or what I'll do when I get there. But I know that I'm going somewhere. I know there's somewhere I want to be. And I know that _here_ is not it.

I shoulder my way through the bar, now a sea of bouncing, ecstatic green-tinged flesh, and they're completely oblivious that I'm leaving. Just as well. I turn as I reach the door and catch flashes of blonde hair and big pearly-white teeth through the movement of the crowd. Carly is kissing and hugging everything that moves, caught up in the rapture of the moment. I move towards her. Without missing a beat, without even opening her eyes she spins around and grabs me, mashing her lips against mine. I can't help but smile and enjoy the kiss for a moment.

She pulls back, opening her eyes which immediately go wide. She laughs. "Oh shit! Haha! Sorry Ali!" She laughs even harder and starts jumping up and down. "Isn't it fucking incredible? It's like the fucking _universe_ is right again! Or at least part of it! It's fucking-"

I place my hands on her shoulders and look into her glowing green eyes. I wrestle for several seconds to find the words, but it doesn't take her long to sense something's amiss. She stops bouncing, the smile slowly melting from her face.

"Shit..." She blinks several times at me. "You're leaving, aren't you?"

For a moment I'm glad that she seems to get me so well. It's only for a moment, and it passes as quickly as it came, when I realize that I'll probably never see her again. I nod solemnly.

She starts fidgeting. It's strange to see the green veins of light on her skin telling me just how uncomfortable she is in that moment, when I've only ever been able to feel it before. "To where? There?" She jerks a thumb at the vid screen.

I nod. "Yes. Well... no. I mean, not exactly, but-"

"And you have to leave _now_?" Her consternation flashes with anger and fear. "I mean... Won't it take a while for new ships to get-"

"I'm sorry, Car..." I try and _push_ just how sorry I am and how much she means to me into her through this connection that I'm finally acknowledging is there. "I'm so sorry… I haven't been giving you all of myself, and I only just realized _why_. And... And me staying around here isn't going to make anything any better. I don't belong here, and-"

She grabs me and crushes me in a hug. Sometimes I forget just how strong she is. I return the hug and bury my face in her neck. I feel warm tears steam down my cheeks. She sniffles a little bit. I gently run my fingers through her hair. There's nothing I can say which will make things any better. So I say the only thing that needs saying.

"I love you."

"I love you, too, uggo." She pulls back and looks at me. The green has disappeared, so I just see reddened eyes rimmed with tears. She wipes at them with the heel of her palm. "I'm _still_ not feeding your fucking fish, though!"

I laugh, glad to have been able to laugh _at all_ these past five years. Glad to have had her in my life. I pull her forward and plant a kiss on her lips.

She sniffles again as I pull away. "Damn... I wish you had _told_ me you were into chicks!"

I roll my eyes and smile, brushing my palm against her cheek as I turn away. I wipe the tears from my eyes and push my way through the door. The cool night air hits me and for a moment I'm wishing that I had grabbed my jacket. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with a slight chill. It feels good. The air. To be moving. To have purpose again. The cold doesn't bother me. I'm gonna need it. Right now I know where I'm going, at least the next step anyway. It's ten miles away. I can make it there in less than two hours if I push it.

I put one foot in front of the other, for the first time in five years not needing anything to keep me going besides what I've got inside of me. My pace quickens until I'm finally in a run. I feel a sense of urgency like I haven't felt in a long time. A sense of purpose. It feels good to be running. I've been a runner my whole life. The movement comes naturally, now that my feet just know where to take me. Ten miles.

I can make it in 90 minutes. I'm sure I'll be glad for the cool air before too long.


	6. Needs, Wants, and Regrets

_It's tough to lean against a bar, a drink in your hand, and make eyes at your girl from across the room with your arm in a sling, but I'm doing my best. The dress blues aren't helping much. Liara's looking absolutely ravishing in her gown, though. If there weren't a swarm of dignitaries and military-types all around, I'd be over there ravishing her right now. I'll just have to remember to make up for it later._

"_I suppose I have you to thank for saving my ship, Commander." A poised asari in a crisp military uniform seems to have appeared next to me. Her voice is deep and measured. She stands with a comfortable air of authority so palpable I feel like I need to stand a little straighter in her presence. "And the Council, of course."_

_Ah, the _Destiny Ascension. _So that would mean... "All in a day's work, Captain Lidanya," I offer up a salute with my glass._

"_Just Matriarch, please," she corrects me._

_I'm a little stumped. "Um... Matriarch is a more formal title, right?"_

"_Yes, but when you get to my age you take whatever recognition you can get, wherever you can get it, Commander."_

_I can't help but grin. I never knew the asari to be so dry in their humor. Of course, I only _really _know the one asari. I meet Liara's eyes from across the room and cock my eyebrow suggestively._

"_I've noticed you seem to have taken a particular interest in a certain matriarch's daughter," Lidanya mentions, looking out across the ballroom in no obvious direction._

_My broken shoulder begins to throb. "You have a problem with Liara?"_

"_Please..." she scoffs. "There was far more to Matriarch Benezia than the last thirty years of her life would lead some to believe, and if I had any problem with purebloods, I would first have to stop being one myself."_

_I relax a little bit, but I still sense a 'but' coming..._

"_I was just curious what she is to you, Commander? A dalliance? A companion? Something more?"_

_Alright, lady, now you're pushing my buttons. "Might I ask – Matriarch – what business it is of yours what she is to me?"_

"_It's none, of course," she nods slightly. "Were she a dalliance, I would bid you enjoy your time with her. Certainly you've earned some semblance of comfort, wherever you might find it. Were she a companion, in my estimation you'd have found a loyal friend. She'd have learned that much from Benezia, at least." She takes a long draft from the crystal blue liqueur swirling around in her glass, and I realize she still hasn't looked directly at me the entire time she's been over here. It's a little unnerving. "However, if she were to mean more to you than that... If you have, as I imagine, found someone dear to you, I would hope... you make sure that she knows it."_

_A chill runs down my spine. There's a subtle change in the tone of her voice as it drops a full octave. Her words seem to come from everywhere, from inside my own head._

"_Some might deem such a thing to be luxury to those in our line of work. To hell with them. To hell with everyone and everything else. Keep her close to you. And don't. Ever... Let her go."_

_I can only stand there in stunned silence. The intensity in her lavender eyes isn't diminished by the fact that she's still not looking at me. She looks like a statue. Like an immovable object. Like an ocean of completely still water. But oceans are deep, and we can't always tell what's going on beneath the surface. I want to know, though. I want to ask. I have to ask. This is more than just general advice..._

_She doesn't give me the chance. "You are thoroughly charming, Commander, and this has certainly been a pleasure, but I believe Tevos wishes to introduce me to someone who I have no interest in meeting. If you'll excuse me..." She gives a slight bow and then moves to leave._

_I can finally breathe again. I lean against the bar once more, for actual support this time. I'm suddenly acutely aware of my heart beating in my chest. I take a drink and turn back to where Liara is standing. My heart beats more. I set my drink down, and possessed by something I can't quite explain, I make my move._

* * *

><p><em>About two hours later...<em>

My heart's still pounding. I've had plenty of time to calm down after that run, but I can still feel each and every pulse throughout my entire body. I'm nervous. I should be nervous; this is probably the stupidest idea I've had in a while. I should go home and eat and sleep and think out a real plan of action. But I'm here now. I'm moving forward, taking action for the first time in five years and I'm not willing to back down on account of nerves.

I _am _hungry, though. And damn tired. I haven't eaten much more than that half-bottle of tequila all day, and I haven't slept in almost 48 hours. And I'm cold. Now I'm wishing I had that jacket. Jeez, I've gotten soft... I shove my hands into my armpits and huddle behind one of the larger skycars, trying to keep warm. Probably doesn't look suspicious at all: a lone woman in a darkened parking lot, hiding behind a skycar, waiting for someone... I'm glad this place is empty right now.

I push the thought from my mind. I'm tired and hungry and hurting and miserable, but at least I'm moving forward. And I'm reminded of another time when I was tired and hungry and trying to move forward, waiting for something. This isn't the Alliance, though. That's not an option. Not right now, anyway. I'm not _that_ desperate. Well, not yet at least. Of course, I'm standing here in the cold with less than half a plan in my head looking suspicious in a nearly-empty parking lot. Maybe I can't rule out desperation.

I take a breath to try and steady my nerves. Wow, I'm _actually_ nervous. I've faced down charging krogan, swarms of geth, thresher maws, Reapers, and politicians. But _this_ is making me nervous. That's how desperate this is. That's how much I need this to work. I just hope that the scant intel that I managed to gather is...

A door opens and nearly gives me a heart attack. I peek around the corner and see an asari walking away. Human military-types always have that same stiffness to their walk. Straight-backed, shoulders spread, moving in a clipped, unhurried gait. On the other hand, even the highest ranking asari manage to maintain some semblance of grace to their movements. It must be nice to have that fluidity be part of your biology. Still, there's no doubt in my mind that she's military. She's walking away from me, so I can't get a look at her face, but... it _has_ to be her. I recognized her at the press conference and hacking into the logs told me about where she'd be afterwards... It _has _to be her.

I take a deep breath and push off from the wall, setting out after her. "Excuse me, Captain?" She doesn't turn around. "Captain, can I have a word?"

There's a subtle shift to her movements that most people wouldn't have caught, but I've been around enough biotics in my time to know when someone's put up a barrier. Not even a glimmer of blue to give her away, too. She's definitely a pro, and definitely someone who knows how to be careful. And there's not a drop of fear coming off of her. I can't imagine someone in her position has much to be afraid about these days. She still hasn't turned around or slowed her pace one bit, though. "The press conference is over, miss. And I haven't been a Captain for nearly a decade."

It's her. I can breathe a little easier knowing for sure. That deep, measured voice is just as I remember. "Right, sorry Admiral." I can't help but try and tip my hand early. "Or would you prefer Matriarch? I hear it's the more formal title, but..." She doesn't turn around or acknowledge me in any way. That one was a long-shot. Even _I _barely remember that. "I just had a few questions about the _Dawnseeker's_ mission." My heart's racing even faster than before. I hope it's not making _her_ nervous.

"All details about the _Dawnseeker_ are in the press briefing you should have received. Any further questions should be directed to-"

"The _Dawnseeker_ will be the vanguard for the relay reconstruction efforts, correct?"

"_Vanguard_ is a curious term for what is largely a scientific-"

"It will do the preliminary exploring, blazing a path through charted and uncharted systems to establish the ideal route for the construction fleets, right?"

"And it will set up FTL communication buoys and identify habitable or resource-rich planets, yes. All of which is in the briefing which you seem to have already read. So perhaps you-"

My hand starts shaking. I really wish I had eaten something. Or slept. I'm not exactly in top form at the moment. But at least I can be to the point. "I need to get on that ship."

Her shoulders shudder with an inaudible chuckle. "The _Dawnseeker_ is already adequately crewed with a capable team of asari scientists and engineers." She glances briefly over her shoulder. "No doubt your own government will have its own ship with its own _shimmer_-class drive core in due time. Perhaps you would have better luck-"

"If I'm not mistaken, whatever was used to send the _Dawnseeker _that camera will also be used to send supplies and the like before they move on?" I shake my head. "I need to get onto the _Dawnseeker, _Admiral Lidanya. I need to be on that ship. I've waited too long already, I can't wait for humanity to build its own-"

"Millions of people have been waiting for thirty years to get back to their homes, miss. Back to their families. No _one_ person is going to receive-"

"Well I think the galaxy _owes_ me one, Admiral," I snap. Well if this works it certainly won't be because of how cool and level-headed I was.

It gets her attention, though. She stops, giving an almost imperceptible sigh. "Hundreds of millions lost their lives fighting against the Reapers. Dozens of cities and colonies – entire _planets – _were wiped off the face of the galaxy." Half-turning to face me over her shoulder, I can easily spot the look of disdain in her lavender eyes. "And yet you deign to..." Her voice trails off, lips slightly parted as words fail her.

There's no gasp, no widening of the eyes. She recognizes me, that much I can tell, but for a moment I have to wonder if she's even surprised. I imagine if I had lived as long as she has, served in the military for as long as she has, I'd have probably seen everything, too. Still, you'd think that seeing a thirty-year-dead Spectre standing in front of you would elicit _some _kind of reaction.

_My_ heart's racing, though. I've been Allison Gunn for five years and now I'm revealing myself to one of the highest ranking military officers in the asari government, asking – well, _demanding_ – to be let onto the first ship to leave the local cluster in thirty years. So I've got a bit on the line. I swallow hard and take a slow step forward. I let my hands hang limp by my sides, palms forward, showing her that I'm not armed. "Admiral, I know this-"

There's a flash and suddenly she's in front of me. There's a crack of thunder when the universe catches up to her and I barely have time to flinch before my vision goes white and the shockwave of her charge knocks me from my feet. My chest feels like I've been charged by a krogan. My head hits the concrete and flop end over end several times from the momentum of the blow. I finally come to a stop, gasping and coughing. I taste blood on my lips. My ears are ringing as I try and get to all fours. I've gotten weak. I blink away some of the blinding light and see her marching towards me. She gestures and I'm flying through the air again, slamming into a skycar. With an outstretched hand she pins me there with her biotics. It feels like my ribcage is gonna be crushed.

"Who are you?" she demands. She continues to march until her face is mere inches away from mine.

Tears stream down my cheeks. I try to form words but my lungs don't want to work. All I can manage is a weird noise that sounds like a squeal.

"Who are you?" she asks again, unrelenting.

Desperation takes hold of me. "You know who I-"

The words aren't even out of my mouth when she growls at me again. "Who are you?"

"-am. _You know who I am!_" I growl. I look into her eyes, into that cold, stern gaze, and try to catch my breath. I'm so fucking tired. I can't hold back the tears. Frustration. Anger. Desperation. Hope. I don't even know. I just...

"Commander Shepard died thirty years ago-"

"I know..."

"-on the Citadel, ensuring that the Crucible-"

"I _know_! I was _there_, alright?" My vision starts to blur. I'm not sure if it's the tears or the crushing weight on my chest, but I blink several times and it's better. I'm still fighting to stay conscious, focusing on the pain. God I'm pathetic. Five years of retirement and I can't even hold it together for one fight.

Her eyes narrow slightly. She raises her free hand to her ear. "Security, I need-"

Panic overtakes me. "_NO!_ No! No, please!" It feels like everything is slipping away, my one chance at this. I'm not ready to be outed. Not like this. "Please... Please don't!" Visions of exactly how the asari government would react to someone claiming to be me flit through my head. Strapping me to a chair and interrogating me while the DNA test runs in the background. I gotta imagine interrogations go a lot smoother when you can just pillage someone's mind. And knowing how the human government would react to such an interrogation... "Please..."

Her face remains expressionless, but the call has stopped. My eyes flick over to her fingers hovering above her ear canal. I don't know if someone's talking into her ear or if they'll send someone to check on her just in case or if she's just bluffing. I can't take that chance.

"I-I'm not armed," I whisper. "I don't have a gun. I don't have armor. I don't have shields. I don't have biotics. I don't even have a military-grade omni-tool anymore. I'm not gonna try anything. I just need to-"

She releases the biotic hold she has on me and I drop unceremoniously to the floor. Being released from that vice-like prison is almost as bad as being in it, but at least now I can breathe. Gasp is more like it. She takes a step back, never taking her eyes off me. "Never mind. Just an overzealous reporter looking for a scoop. Nothing a little fireworks can't scare away." Her hands drop to her side, ready to snatch the life out of me should the need arise. I'm beginning to think Benezia had been holding back. "Do you make it a habit of faking your own death?"

I lean my head against the skycar. "So you believe me?"

Her lips curl slightly. "I've yet to decide. You could be anyone wearing that face."

"Aria T'loak said the same thing to me-"

"Answer the question. Do you make it a habit of-"

I shake my head. "I didn't fake-"

"_Do you_ make it a habit-"

"_I didn't fake my death!_" I growl at her. "I didn't fake my death on the Citadel and it would be difficult to believe that the asari government didn't know _exactly_ how dead I was after the Collector attack..."

She just glares at me. "I've heard the stories. I've read the reports: resurrected from the dead after two years by Cerberus, the very people responsible for the devastation of Shepard's unit on Akuze."

From where I'm sitting it looks like she's looking down her nose at me. Probably would look like that from _wherever_ I was, given the tone of her voice. But I feel the distinct need to stand while being accused of being a traitor. I heave myself up to my feet, trying not to groan too loudly. "Look... Join our minds if you don't believe me, but telling you won't-"

"I will _not_ be joining minds with you," she says. "I have no intention of being taken in by some Cerberus assassination attempt."

That gets me to chuckle. "So now you believe I'm me, but I'm just working for Cerberus?"

"I'm coming around to the idea."

"If this was really a Cerberus assassination attempt, you sure as hell wouldn't have seen anyone coming." Talking takes effort now. I prop myself against the skycar with an outstretched arm. "I hated every _second_ that I had to work with them to beat the Collectors, but I still respected what they were capable-"

"The Shepard I knew would never have worked for Cerberus."

I laugh. It's really not that funny, but I can't help it. I'm so fucking sick of my loyalty being questioned. "The Shepard you _knew_? You met me all of _once_ and you-"

She turns in one surprisingly graceful motion and begins walking away.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I stagger after and nearly topple over with the first step. It's all slipping away. It was a stupid plan but I couldn't wait any longer. The fire in my chest doubles me over and I sputter out a few nonsensical sounds trying to stop her. I clutch my arm across my chest and there's a sharp pain in my shoulder that...

And then I remember my arm in a sling. That poor arm that kept getting dislocated over and over again. I remember the injury that started it all. I remember the recovery process. I remember the celebration. I remember why it had to be her. "Who was it?" She keeps walking away. I know she heard me, but she either doesn't care or... "Who was it, Lidanya? You told me to never let Liara go..." There. A slight misstep in her stride. "You said 'to hell with everyone and everything else'... Right? That's not just something you tell someone. That's not just... That's not just standard good advice. You learned that lesson the hard way, didn't you? You had to, didn't you?"

She's stopped moving completely now, a statue once more. She's not facing me but she's not walking away anymore.

I curse my own weakness as my legs give out and I flop back down onto the ground. It's more than physical exhaustion. I've dealt with that. But this... This old wound... "I did it, you know? I showed her every chance I could that I loved her, in every way I could think of. I tried to ignore everything else... But you know this life... You know what it does... What it demands... I tried to hold her as close to me as possible, but... I pushed her away. I made a promise to her that I was always coming back, and I needed to know that she'd be safe so I'd have someone to come back to, so... I knew that I'd do everything in my power to get back to her but I wasn't even given the chance..."

Her head turns ever so slightly. "Why didn't you go to the Alliance?" Her voice is softer now.

"Come on... You know why..." I sit there for several moments, panting, staring at the back of her head. "I wasn't lying to you, you know... I _died_ on the Citadel. I... The Catalyst..." I stop myself, wondering exactly how much crazy she'll be able to swallow. "I don't... really know what happened to me up there. But I know that I was no more. And I don't know how or why I'm back now, but... I _could_ go to the Alliance. I could tell them what happened or make up some lie or... And they might believe me. They might not. If they believed me they'd probably spend years running tests on me to try and figure out what happened. What I am. At best... _At best_ they'd put me back on a pedestal. _Hero of the fucking Alliance_. A symbol for my people. I'd be back in that life and... They made a fucking _statue _of me, Lidanya! Do you think any of them _care_ about what _I_ want? Do you think any of them care that Liara..." A sob cuts me off. I take several breaths to calm myself and manage to hold back just about all of the tears.

"I don't want that life anymore. I don't want to be Commander Shepard anymore. I just want to be _Alice_, and I want a life with Liara, I want the life I was fighting for, the life I fucking _earned_. I want the little blue children and the happily ever after and I _pushed _her away because I knew that I would tear the galaxy apart to get it back and now she's gone. But she's _out there_, Lidanya. I _know_ it. I can _feel_ her."

It feels like a thousand years of tension lifts from my body as I say the words. I didn't realize how badly I needed to say that, how much it was tearing me up to keep all that inside. "You _know _what I'm talking about... I need to be out there, Lidanya. I need to find her." The pain feels lessened. "I need to get on that ship."

She just stands there. Silent. Unmoving. If she believes me, if she understands me, I can't tell. If she can sense what I'm feeling, I can't tell. She's unreadable right now. Maybe it's because I'm so tired or so _spent_ from opening myself up like that, but I can't sense anything that's going on inside her. There's a growing part of me that just let go and let myself slip into unconsciousness, but I hold on. I have to.

"Be back here in four hours."

My limbs go weak. If I wasn't already on the ground I would have collapsed. I bite back a sob and try to get to my feet.

"If you're even a single minute late you'll have to find another way back to her."

I bite my lip and force the tears to stay in my eyes. "Thank you," I whisper. "Thank you." I turn and start to hobble off. It's going to be murder finding a cab at this hour.

"Alice?"

Hearing my own name after all this time sends a chill down my spine. I turn and see she's closed her eyes. Her head is slightly lowered.

"Jorrah."

My eyebrows furrow. "What?"

She turns to me, gazing at the floor. "I've lived a long life. I've loved many in my time." She's mute for several long moments. "But the day that Jorrah and I parted..." She raises her eyes to me. She's as still as a statue but I've never seen her more organic that in this moment. Whatever tears she's shed over this lost love of hers have long since dried up, but I can see it in her; a weariness. A scar that doesn't heal quite right and never goes away. It's regret.

Regret that I'm hoping to avoid. I nod. "Four hours." I turn and immediately start making plans.

"Alice?"

I sigh. "Yeah?"

"Is there some... _alias_ that you've been using?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I am to get you onto the _Dawnseeker_, I will need to give them a name to go along with whatever story I have to concoct to make you seem like a worthwhile addition to the crew. Might as well be one that you already use."

Huh... For whatever reason it never occurred to me that she'd have to make up a story to get me onto the ship. Of course, I never really thought about exactly _how_ she was going to get me onto that ship. Obviously one of my more well thought-out plans.

Her eyes narrow. "That is... assuming you don't wish to be outed as the hero of the galaxy? It may make things easier on _me_, at least."

I chuckle, cracking a small smile. "No... Wouldn't want to make things easy on you." I sigh, thinking about who I've been these past five years. Allison Gunn... Another life I'll be leaving behind. Commander Shepard... Allison Gunn... I just hope I find Liara before I run out of lives to give up.

I shrug. "Just... Say my name is Alice Shepard."

She tilts her head to one side, silently asking the question.

I shrug and turn to leave. "It's not like anyone knows who that is, anyway."

I bring up my omni-tool and check the time. Three hours and fifty-seven minutes. I have three hours and fifty-seven minutes to get ready.

And then I've got a new life to find.

* * *

><p><strong>-~oO* End of Part 2 *Oo~<strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN (2012/07/11): **I will be taking a bit of a hiatus on the final part of this story in order to work on another project. I'm certainly not abandoning this story. If anything, the hiatus will give me a chance to properly outline the final arc and do it justice. I don't believe this other project will be terribly long, so I hope to have my next update to_ Returned_ by early September!_


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